


Starts With a Spin

by Maxine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Time, Hogwarts Era, Humor, M/M, Romance, Slash, Spin the Bottle, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-21
Updated: 2012-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:03:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 119,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxine/pseuds/Maxine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with the spin of a bottle, and now Harry and Draco have gotten themselves so far into their own game there's almost no way out again. Except to keep playing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was first posted on my LiveJournal about...seven years ago? So before the 6th book had even come out. Enjoy! :D

Harry wasn’t exactly sure how it had started. Well, scratch that, he knew how it had _started_ , he just wasn’t sure why it had continued or what had possessed his classmates to _allow_ it to continue.

Sixth year for Harry had started out slowly, and progressed even slower. Everyone was nervous and tense due to the war that grew inevitably closer. Voldemort hadn’t surfaced since the incident before summer holidays, not even within Harry’s dreams or through his scar. And somewhat unexpectedly, none of the captured Death Eaters had escaped from Azkaban.

Harry himself had been understandably moody since returning to Hogwarts. Sirius’ death had hit him hard, even if he’d only known him for a few years. He’d been the closest parental figure Harry’d ever had. The only other wizard he could put in that position would be Dumbledore, and the betrayed feeling he’d had after parting with him the year before hardly helped with Harry’s feelings of loss.

It had actually been Hermione’s idea to throw the combined House party. After Gryffindor had beaten Ravenclaw in Quidditch, with Harry reappointed as Seeker, the party they’d had in Gryffindor had left everybody considerably relaxed and cheerful. So Hermione reasoned that a big sixth year party would help _everyone_ relax.

What had started out as an everyone’s-invited-but-really-only-Gryffindor-Ravenclaw-and-Hufflepuff party was soon crashed by the Slytherins. No one said anything outright, if only because it _was_ supposed to be a combined House party, but the distaste was evident enough.

Malfoy, leading the rest of his House, only answered this with a smirk.

* * *

Draco had felt the effects of the events before summer as strongly as everyone else, if not more so. His entire world had nearly been pulled from beneath his feet. For the first time in his life the Malfoy name was openly scorned, and it was the longest amount of time he’d been away from his father while actually being home. His feelings towards the whole Light and Dark issue hadn’t changed much. He still despised muggle-borns, and he wasn’t about to welcome them with open arms, but at the same time he was currently harboring bitter animosities toward Voldemort with a passion only rivaled by his feelings for Potter, because the git hadn’t done anything about his father being in prison. Draco had expected a breakout attempt at the least two weeks into summer, and when it hadn’t come, nor showed any signs of coming, he’d been left shocked, hurt, and confused.

His mother wasn’t dealing with anything much better than Draco was. While she was his mother, her maternal instinct left a lot to be desired, and it didn’t help that over the past five years Draco had been away from home more than he’d actually been at home. Their relationship had become desperately bland, and Narcissa had spent most of her summer shut up in her bedroom, or out gallivanting between formal dinner parties and get togethers to try and dig the Malfoy name out of the sludge it had fallen into.

Despite his confusion, Draco actions regarding Potter and his two sidekicks hadn’t much changed. Things had continued much the same way that they had the years before, if only growing more intense as the boys discovered how benefiting fist fighting could be. Something about a bloodied face and having real evidence that they were physically destroying something just added fuel to the fire.

So when Draco got word of the combined House party, he wasn’t about to not attend.

* * *

Sometime after the Slytherins had arrived, bringing with them complaints about how boring the party was, things started to pick up a bit.

It was Pansy who suggested Spin the Bottle. Apparently parties weren’t complete without a little action going on.

Which was how Harry found himself in his current position, several weeks later.

It had started out innocently enough. Seamus had to kiss Susan Bones, Parvati kissed Blaise Zabini, Hermione kissed Terry Boot… Then somewhere along the line, Lavender spun and the bottle landed on Padma…and everyone paused.

“What happens now?” Lavender asked, glancing nervously at Padma out of the corner of her eye.

“Kiss the boy nearest to her right,” Morag MacDougal offered. Lavender nodded and was turning towards Dean when Pansy cut in.

“No! No, where’s the fun in that?” the black-haired girl said, lips curving into a smirk. “The rules were that you had to kiss whomever the bottle landed on. We didn’t say to do anything different when it happens to be a member of the same sex.”

Lavender blinked, her mouth forming a small ‘o’ as Padma’s cheeks colored slightly. “A-alright, then,” she said softly, and crawled the remaining distance towards the other girl.

“Well I have to admit, I thought there’d be a bit more protesting,” Pansy said, laughing shortly. She arched a single eyebrow at the girl.

“Well I’m a Gryffindor, aren’t I?” Lavender said airily. “Known for being brave and all that. Can’t refuse a simple kiss.”

“Touché!” Pansy grinned generously. Next to her, Draco scoffed.

“Pansy, stop making _friends_ with the Gryffindors,” he muttered, and Pansy smacked him on the shoulder.

“Shove off, Draco, I can be as friendly as I want.”

“Oy, a bit whipped, aren’t you, Malfoy?” Ron quipped, eyes never leaving the two girls in the circle who shared a nervous peck on the lips before scuttling back to their seats. “I can’t believe you’d let a girl talk to you like that,” he said, laughing scornfully.

“At least I can _get_ a girl to talk to me, Weasel!” Malfoy snapped back, turning cold grey eyes on the redhead.

“Don’t start!” Hermione spoke, before Ron could reply. “No, don’t you dare. I don’t want to deal with that tonight.” Next to her, Harry turned bored green eyes onto his friend, trying to smother an amused grin.

“Heh, talk about being whipped,” Malfoy smirked. Harry’s head snapped around, and he glared at the blond.

“Shut it, Malfoy!”

“Really, Draco, I hate to agree with her, but Granger’s right. It was just starting to get interesting!” Pansy said, pouting. “Save your _passionate rivalry_ for Potions class, would you?” Draco stared at her incredulously before accepting a quick kiss from Hannah Abbot, as her spin had landed on him, while Harry once again tried to hide his amused grin. Hermione sniffed.

“Thank you, Pansy,” she said lightly. The Slytherin pursed her lips.

“Oh, get over yourself, Granger, I wasn’t trying to build any bridges,” she replied haughtily, shaking her short hair out of her face. Hermione frowned slightly.

“Right,” she replied evenly. Harry opened his mouth to offer words of comfort or some such, but never got them out as his attention was called back to the game he had previously been ignoring.

“Harry!” Seamus was calling, and for half a second Harry was scared he was going to have to kiss the Irish boy. Seamus was openly and notoriously gay, and Harry certainly had no problem with that but he really didn’t want to have to kiss him. Honestly, there was no telling what could happen. Seamus might very possibly try to lengthen the kiss beyond its allotted third of second time, and then people might start rumors and there would be more untrue stories going around about Harry and the Daily Prophet might even pick up on it and-

“HARRY!”

Harry blinked. “Yes, sorry, what?”

“The bottle’s landed on you, mate,” Seamus said, a strong Irish tilt in his voice. Harry blinked again and glanced at the bottle disinterestedly.

“Right then, who am I kissing?” Aside from one or two nervous coughs, silence answered him. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, the bespectacled boy turned to Hermione, who was also looking a bit confused. Finding no help there, he then turned to Ron, who was staring across the circle in horror. “Erm…” Harry followed his gaze and his eyes found Malfoy, the blond boy’s lips curled in disgust. He blinked once more, wondering who on Earth he would be kissing that had this effect on _Malfoy_ even-

Wait.

Eyes going wide, Harry snapped his gaze back around to meet Malfoy’s and found, much to his own horror, that Malfoy’s disgust was directed at _him_.

“Oh no…no way, no way in _hell_ am I kissing _Malfoy_ ,” Harry said, falling onto all fours and backing up slowly. “You can’t make me!” There was still silence around the circle until Malfoy smirked and started casually observing his fingernails.

“Well, well, well, Potter. So much for that notorious Gryffindor bravery.” He raised his eyes to meet Harry’s, and his smirk widened. “Scared off by a little kiss. Even Brown wasn’t afraid of kissing another girl.”

“I have no problem kissing another boy, Malfoy, I just have a problem kissing _you_ ,” Harry spat. Draco’s eyebrows rose.

“Oh ho ho! No problem kissing a boy? Something you’re not telling-“

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I think it was.”

“It was not!”

“Boys! I don’t care who has a problem with what, I want to see some kissing!” Pansy broke in. She had a strange glint in her eyes.

And that was when Harry realized that something was very wrong with his classmates. Glancing around nervously, he noticed the same hungry look in many of the other girls’ eyes, and Seamus’ for that matter, but he ignored that. Most of the other boys simply looked interested, aside from Ron who was outright disgusted.

“Ew, gross, I agree with Harry, he shouldn’t have to kiss Malfoy!” he exclaimed, nose wrinkling. Harry nodded vigorously and turned to Hermione, expecting the same support, only to find her with a thoughtful look in her eyes.

“No, Ron, I think Harry should do it,” she said softly. Pansy glanced at her and smirked. “After all, Lavender and Padma had to. It’s only fair.”

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed, looking completely scandalized. Draco chuckled. “Shut up, Malfoy!”

“I just find it funny that you’re so scared, Potter. Maybe that’s what the Dark Lord should do, eh, offer to bugger you or some such? That’d send you running.” He looked very smug.

“And why are you so eager, Malfoy? Something _you’re_ not telling us?” Harry snapped, finally turning back to face his nemesis. Draco opened his mouth to retort, paused, made some sort of indignant sound, and finally managed to speak something that made sense.

“Oh you wish, Potter!” Ok, so it wasn’t his best comeback.

“If I don’t see you two snogging in the next few seconds,” Pansy started threateningly, pulling out her wand.

“Alright, fine!” Harry finally conceded, eyes narrowed angrily. “Get over here, Malfoy.” Draco stared at him incredulously.

“Right, I think not. How about _you_ come over here?”

“You were the one who was so eager to kiss me, you can move your own lazy arse!” Inwardly, Harry cringed as the argument quickly deteriorated into grade school nonsense.

“I don’t think so, Potter, I was _not_ eager to-“

“Alright, that does it!” Hermione stood and pulled her own wand out. She suddenly seemed very intimidating, looming overhead with a stormy expression on her face. Harry scowled at her and reluctantly dragged himself across the circle towards Malfoy, wondering when he’d wandered into an alternate universe where Slytherins and Gryffindors had parties together and Hermione _wanted_ him to kiss Draco Malfoy.

“I knew you wanted it, Potter,” Draco smirked at him. Harry decided not to point out the light pink blooming in his cheeks.

“Malfoy, shut up,” he said tiredly instead.

“Make me, Potter,” was Malfoy’s reply, until what he said caught up with him and the smirk fell right off his face and apparently onto Harry’s.

“Told you you wanted it,” he said, eyes glinting, and then he reached out and grasped Draco by the chin, pulling him forward and placing his mouth determinedly on the other boy’s.

Harry’d only kissed one other person before, and while the disaster with Cho had certainly not been the best experience of his life, he was glad he could still say he at least enjoyed that kiss far better than the one he was currently partaking in.

It lasted less than two seconds, but even that was too long for Harry. He pulled back almost immediately and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve, though that was completely unnecessary because there had never been a kiss that was more tightly close-mouthed than the one that he and Draco had just shared.

Draco was doing the same thing, cheeks growing a deeper pink to match the color that Harry could feel burning in his own.

“Well that was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever experienced,” Draco eventually said, breaking the deafening silence that had fallen. He sneered at Harry, and the green-eyed boy scowled right back.

“Not my fault you suck at kissing.”

“Oh, sod off, Potter.”

* * *

And that was the start of it all. At some point during the hours of the night following what had been deemed ‘The Kiss,’ Pansy and Hermione decided that combined House parties should be a weekly event to allow for stress relief and to give the students something to look forward to. No one was quite sure how the two girls had managed to form their uneasy truce, but they both agreed together that the parties would continue.

So they did.

Every Saturday night.

And this was what Harry couldn’t quite figure out. The Spin the Bottle games stopped, replaced with the ever popular Truth or Dare, and things went from bad to worse. His classmates seemed determined to watch he and Draco kiss, and it was unnerving Harry more than he liked to admit.

“It’s the whole rival thing,” Hermione had told him one week after a particularly annoying dare of Harry having to kiss Draco for ten seconds straight. Of course this just meant that they sat there, mouths pressed unmovingly together for the allotted amount of time, but still. In any case, this didn’t explain anything to Harry. What was so exciting about two rivals snogging?

“Nothing,” Ron had answered when he asked him. “Absolutely nothing. It’s _disgusting_.”

“It’s hot,” Seamus had countered, cutting into the conversation and saying what Hermione hadn’t wanted to admit to Harry. “You and Malfoy snogging each other is about the hottest thing Hogwarts has seen in years.”

Harry had to disagree.

Draco, for his part, was ready to call it quits after Susan Bones of all people, a _Hufflepuff_ for crying out loud, had issued the ten-second dare. It was getting too disgusting for even him to handle. Pansy nearly threw a fit, however, when on the fourth Saturday of their little parties, he told her he wasn’t going. Startled and more than a little freaked out, he agreed to show up one more night.

He should have known that wasn’t a good idea.

* * *

Pansy looked decidedly shifty tonight, Harry decided, after the sixth years had settled into the circle and the first few truths had been told and dares done. She had to be scheming or something. After having to watch her flash her, admittedly quite impressive bosom to the crowd, he found out why.

Straightening her top and brushing the hair out of her eyes, Pansy cast a sharp eye around the group. “I was wondering when we were going to work up the guts to start in on the crude dares,” she said slyly, smirking at her attentive audience. The shift that occurred then was almost palpable. Like something had just switched and now there was no going back. Harry could practically feel it happen, and against his will he cast a nervous glance at Draco, slightly surprised to find the blond clenching his fists and looking uncomfortable. “Potter!” Pansy’s voice rang, and Harry’s eyes shot back to the short-haired girl.

“Er…yeah?” he replied, shifting slightly where he sat. Pansy’s smirk widened.

“Truth or dare?”

Harry gulped. Really, there was an easy way to get out of all this nonsense with Draco, but with the sort of information Harry had, about the Order, the prophecy, and Voldemort in general, he couldn’t afford to be asked damaging questions. Not that anyone would take advantage of it, but it made Harry nervous nonetheless. He had no idea what Draco’s excuse was, but he just had to face it. “Dare.” He’d be kissing him again.

If possible, Pansy’s smirk widened even further, stretching into an almost feral grin. He blinked, gaze shifting to Hermione, and he was dismayed to find her trying to bite back an excited grin.

“I dare you,” Pansy started, darting a look at Draco, “to kiss Draco.” Harry groaned, nose wrinkling in annoyance more than anything else, and Draco turned and glared at him. But Pansy held up a hand. “Let me finish,” she said, and continued, “ _French_ kiss him…until I say stop.”

Harry swore that he literally felt his stomach turn right then, and his eyes widened. Across from him Draco’s jaw dropped, and he shot a wild look at his supposed friend.

“Pansy!” he said incredulously, brow furrowing. “What the bloody fuck are you trying to do?!” Pansy smiled sweetly at him and patted his hand.

“Nothing, Draco darling, just getting my kicks for the evening.” Draco continued to stare at her as if she’d just grown an extra arm or something.

“What-…but I… Awww, bollocks, do I have to?” Harry whined, finally finding his voice. Hermione gave him a frightening look.

“Yes, yes you do, Harry.”

“That’s the dare, after all,” Seamus piped up, cheerfully.

“Oh, bugger off, Finnigan,” Draco snapped. He then glanced at Harry, eyes hard. “Well, come on then, Potter, get it over with.” Harry swallowed nervously, and nodded. He tried not to think about the fact that he’d never gotten this far with Cho.

Harry crawled across the circle to sit in front of Malfoy, staring at the other boy’s mouth. His lips were pressed tightly together, and Harry was half afraid that when he tried to follow through with the dare, he’d get his tongue bitten off. Clearing his head, he took a deep breath and lunged forward.

It began no different than any of their previous three kisses. In fact, Harry began to wonder if maybe he could just _pretend_ he was frenching-

“Get on with it, Potter. Remember, I’m the one telling you when to stop,” Pansy’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he withheld a groan. He vaguely realized that he was staring at Draco’s nose, and he raised his eyes to see if Draco’s were still open.

They were, and that startled Harry more than he cared to admit. He blinked twice and noticed that light pink spreading over the nose he’d previously been staring at. Then suddenly the kiss changed. It wasn’t just mouths pressed hard together. Malfoy had relaxed a bit, pressing more gently against Harry, and Harry decided he might as well get on with it, and opened his mouth tentatively.

The room was dead silent, everyone staring in rapt attention at the two boys. Draco squirmed slightly, uncomfortable with it all, before he felt Harry’s tongue sweeping over his lower lip. Gasping, he unintentionally opened up to the boy and then Harry’s tongue was in his mouth, running over his own, searching, seeking, and Draco could barely think. He felt his cheeks grow warm, his head swam lightly as he grew dizzy, and he felt like he was falling backwards.

Using your tongue to kiss someone, Harry determined almost immediately, was a wonderful thing. It almost managed to block out the memory of whom he was actually kissing. Carefully, shyly at first, he explored Draco’s mouth, leaning forward and into the other boy. Draco offered no resistance; he actually seemed to be inviting the other boy in. Harry kept leaning forward, vaguely wondering how this was possible, when suddenly Draco overbalanced and fell backwards and Harry realized it was possible because he’d been pushing the blond back. Quickly reaching out, he grabbed the other boy around the waist with one hand while the other leaned on the ground for balance, and Draco’s hands came up to grasp at Harry’s biceps.

The kissing started again without thought, Harry’s mouth crashing against Draco’s in a much more frantic pace. Their tongues swept wildly together, twisting and sucking and Harry had never felt anything more wonderful in his life. He felt one of Draco’s hands leave him and instead felt an arm curl around his neck, pulling him closer still. His knees were starting to ache from kneeling over the blond, but he plunged further still into the kiss and Draco arched into him, a muffled moan vibrating through into his mouth.

It was much too good to be true, and Harry refused to let himself remember that this was _Malfoy_ he was kissing, but this was still new to Harry and he hadn’t quite mastered the art of breathing through his nose. So eventually he pulled back, gasping and staring in disbelief, and his rival, hair askew and mouth swollen from their kiss, stared right back in some mix of shock and disgust.

“Well it’s about time,” a somewhat breathless voice said, and the two boys turned their shocked gazes to Pansy, who was biting her lip slightly and giggling. “I’ve been telling you to stop for the past five minutes.” This wasn’t actually true, she’d actually forgotten that she was even supposed to tell them to stop and was quite content on watching them snog themselves into the new millennium, but no one felt compelled to correct her as they continued to stare in awe at the disheveled not-quite-couple.

Harry and Draco’s already flushed faces became a deeper shade of red when they heard this, and it got even worse when they realized they were still clutching each other. Simultaneously they sprang apart, Harry burying his face in his hands when he got to his original seat in the circle. Ron patted his arm sympathetically.

“Disgusting,” Draco muttered, wiping his mouth across the back of his sleeve as had become the custom after one of these dares. “Enjoyed that, did you, Potter?” he spat, glaring at his counterpart.

“Oh you’re one to talk!” Harry growled back, coming back to his senses. “Grabbing at me like that- you _loved_ it.”

“ _Loved_ it-! What…h-how did you come to _that_ conclusion!” Draco spluttered, before coming back to himself and schooling his face into a bored expression. “If kissing me bothers you so much, Potter, then why do you still come to these gatherings?” he asked snidely.

Harry blinked. “Why do you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Draco sneered. “It’s not like I’m…like I’m scared enough to back out or something. Or scared at all for that matter! Because I’m not!” Draco ignored Pansy’s snort and the fact that just earlier that day he had been about to forgo the party. But his reply hit the core of the problem between both boys.

“…Not scared…?” Harry murmured, eyes narrowing. “Well guess what, Malfoy?” Harry crossed his arms, raised his chin slightly, and stared determinedly at the Slytherin. “Neither. Am. I.”

That did it. Things shifted again, and the cards were laid out. Like nearly everything else between the two boys, this issue came down to one thing.

Their pride.

The challenge was set. Who’d be the first to cave?

Who would be the first to not show when things got too heavy to handle?


	2. Chapter 2

French kissing had a very profound effect on the relationship of the two people involved.

At least this was what Harry decided in the week that followed the aforementioned dare.

He figured that, in normal relationships, French kissing could be considered a big step. Afterwards, you were allowed to be openly romantic for other people to see, you could hold hands as you walked down the hall, sneak kisses in between classes, and not be shy about it or care about what everyone else would think.

This, obviously, was not something that Harry and Draco were about to do, and Harry quickly had to stomp out the nauseating image of he and said Slytherin skipping down the halls holding hands. For them, the situation had to be handled…well, delicately, really.

They couldn’t ignore each other, that much was obvious. They hadn’t been able to do it for the past five years and they certainly wouldn’t be able to start now. Besides, not fighting with each other meant acknowledging the fact that they were uncomfortable in each other’s presence. That, by default, meant unintentionally acknowledging the kiss, and by silent agreement the entire sixth year acted like nothing ever happened at the parties. They were just good little students sitting in their rooms studying on those Saturday nights. So nothing was ever mentioned about the happenings between Harry and Draco during the week, which meant they had to continue arguing like they normally did. Their arguments, however, had a noticeable change to them.

For one, the fist fighting they had only just recently discovered was no longer allowed. The obvious reason for this being that they simply did not want to touch each other.

At all.

So they stuck to colorful name calling and such, as they had done for the first five years of their knowing each other.

* * *

“I hate him,” Harry announced that Tuesday, after a particular scathing comment from Malfoy. “Merlin, I hate him so much! Why does he have to be so annoying?” He plopped down onto the couch in the Gryffindor common room, crossed his arms sulkily, and proceeded to mope.

“Don’t let him get to you, Harry, he’s not worth it,” Hermione said gently, lowering herself into the seat next to him. Harry shot her an incredulous look, trying very hard to not talk about the shall-not-be-mentioned-during-the-week-parties, and instead making a commendable attempt to communicate the problem telepathically. Hermione ignored him.

“He’s a great pain in the arse, that’s what he is,” Ron scowled. “And you’re not making anything better, Hermione, with all your little dares.” Well that shot it. Now they were going to talk about it.

“I haven’t made any dares, Ron,” the girl replied, brushing her hair off her shoulders. “I’ve only said that, as a Gryffindor, Harry should have the courage to follow through with them. It’s not my fault that the dares are…not very favorable. To Harry.”

“Not very favorable?” Harry repeated. “They’re not favorable _at all_. I hate it! I go every week dreading what’s going to happen next.” Hermione giggled at that, but quickly cut herself off when Harry glared at her. Ron glanced towards the fireplace, a thoughtful look on his face.

“Then why do you keep going?” he asked quietly, reaching down to his bag to pull out his Charms textbook. “I mean, no one’s forcing you to.”

Harry blushed. “Well I have to go, don’t I? If I back out, Malfoy wins.”

“Wins what?”

“Wins…well…just _wins_. It’s a competition, just like everything else we do,” Harry said bitterly.

“Now that’s just silly,” said Hermione. She paused for a second, quill hovering above her parchment, before jotting down a title for whatever essay she was working on. Harry frowned at her and then shoved all his books back into his bag.

“I can’t do any homework right now,” he grumbled, standing and shouldering his bag.

“Harry, that Potions essay is due tomorrow! Fourteen inches-“

“I’ll do it later, I can’t concentrate right now,” Harry broke in, cutting Hermione off. “I’ll see you guys later.” As he clambered up the stairs, Ron sighed and gave Hermione a look.

“This is your fault, you know.” Hermione ‘hmphed’ before turning back to her essay.

“Harry’s a big boy; I’m sure he’ll be able to deal with it.”

* * *

Saturday morning dawned, bringing with it jittery feelings for many of Hogwarts’ sixth year students. Most, actually, were just excited, waiting in giddy anticipation for the night’s events. A few others were dreading the night, lumps of lead forming in their stomachs as the day dragged on. It took Draco an extra half hour to catch the snitch at Slytherins’ Quidditch practice that morning, because he simply couldn’t concentrate. The later the hour grew, the more sly glances he received from the students in his year.

Walking down to the Great Hall for dinner, he caught Terry Boot smirking at him. When he passed the Hufflepuff table on his way back out, Zacharias Smith actually snorted into his drink, clearly hiding a grin. It all annoyed Draco to no end. In the years past, no one would have dared to laugh at him like that. But after his father had been arrested and the Malfoy name shamed, things had changed. Draco had done a remarkable job holding his spot in his house and even among the other students, but it was obvious that people were much less intimidated by him.

Really, he thought, you’d think people would be more afraid _because_ his father was a Death Eater. Get in Draco’s way and he could sic the Dark Lord on you, type of thing.

That presented Draco with a rather amusing image of Voldemort on a leash, chasing after a rubber ball.

Feeling slightly better, he continued on his way back to the common room, almost managing to ignore Mandy Brocklehurst’s face lighting up in a dreamy smile when he walked past her.

* * *

Harry had done his best to remain hopeful throughout the day. He figured that at some point people would have to get tired of watching him and Draco. Really, it wasn’t like they were the only interesting people to watch, or that they were even that interesting at all. Harry certainly hadn’t minded watching Pansy flash them all last week. Maybe something like that would happen again and people would forget about him.

It did happen again, but in an odd combination, it had been Justin who dared Hermione to do it, so Harry hadn’t watched out of embarrassment for his friend. Though really, he noticed, she didn’t seem to mind so much. It was almost like being at these parties allowed everyone to show a side of themselves that was usually hidden away. Like they were in a world all their own and could act however they wanted to.

Harry had turned to ask Ron what he thought about this, but the redheaded boy was still staring completely slack jawed at Hermione, who was busy buttoning her shirt back up again as a carefree smile lit up her face and her cheeks blushed a pretty rosy color. Harry grinned and turned back to the circle, once again thinking that maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad.

Therefore, he was quite disappointed and more than a little surprised by several things throughout the night.

The first surprise came from Hannah Abbot. Shy, quiet, sweet Hannah Abbot, who Harry didn’t know very well but had always thought was cute. She’d actually called on Draco, and the blond boy had taken one look at her, raised an amused eyebrow, and chosen dare.

Apparently though, this girl was not to be taken for granted.

Pursing her lips thoughtfully, with her eyebrows furrowed, she said, “Well…well, Draco,” and Draco snorted when she called him by his given name, “I dare you…to kiss…” Here she paused, and glanced at Harry, who was certain he was plainly showing how much he didn’t want to be involved in this dare. Hannah sighed and shook her blond curls slightly. “No…no that’s not what I want to do. Draco, I dare you to French kiss Harry again, but you both have to be shirtless.”

There was immediate protesting from both boys.

“That’s not fair!” Harry cried. “It’s his dare, not mine, you can’t tell me to take my shirt off!” Hannah cocked her head to the side, thinking this over.

“That is a valid point,” Parvati spoke up. “Is she allowed to do that?”

“No, no she absolutely is _not_ allowed to do that,” Draco broke in, scowling. “I refuse to partake in such a thing.”

“You don’t have a choice, Malfoy, it’s Harry we’re discussing,” Parvati snapped back. Draco crossed his arms grumpily, sneer still in place.

“Well, let’s see,” Pansy murmured, resting her chin on her hand and looking bored. “We’re playing truth or dare, right? And the dare is for Draco and Potter to kiss shirtless. I say it’s valid. Doesn’t matter if it’s Potter you’re daring or not, he’s involved in the dare itself.”

“No!” Harry shouted.

“Works for me,” Parvati grinned, sharing a look with Lavender.

“No, no, no! That’s not how it works!”

“Alright then, the dare is as stands. I dare Draco and Harry to French kiss without their shirts on,” Hannah declared, smiling happily.

“I’m not doing it!”

“Oh, shut the bloody _fuck_ up, Potter!” Draco all but snarled.

“Why don’t you _make_ -“ Harry clamped a hand over his mouth before the rest of that sentence could make its way out, but Draco smirked at him anyway.

“You don’t have to hide it, Potter, everyone knows you actually enjoy snogging me.”

“Yeah, about as much I enjoyed fighting that basilisk.”

“Dare time!” Hannah interrupted shrilly. And it was about then that Harry decided he didn’t think Hannah Abbot was cute anymore.

* * *

It was frightfully embarrassing having to work your way through all the buttons on your shirt with about twenty-five other people looking on. Harry’s fingers shook and he hastily undid his shirt, nearly ripping off his tie in the process. Draco took things at a much more leisurely pace, slowly and carefully undoing each button and revealing, inch by inch, his pale skin. Harry was left completely topless since he’d rushed, staring helplessly at the other boy as he took his sweet time.

“Would you hurry the fuck up, Malfoy?” he finally asked exasperatedly as Draco shook his shirt off and carefully began to fold it. He still had his tie on, and raised an eyebrow as he smirked at the clearly uncomfortable Gryffindor.

“My, my, Potter, we needn’t rush things. I would have thought Gryffindors were all about foreplay.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Malfoy. _You_ may want to prolong this, but with you, I’m all about getting it over as soon as possible.” That being said, Harry quickly crawled across the circle toward the other boy. Draco frowned and opened his mouth to retort but Harry was already there, grabbing his tie, and pulling him forward to plant his lips firmly on Draco’s.

Draco’s eyes shot wide open, and he made a vague sound of protest, but Harry completely ignored him, eyes squeezed shut behind his glasses. Angered, he pushed against Harry’s chest, and the feel of hands touching him caused Harry to gasp and pull away sharply, eyes shooting open, Draco’s tie still firmly in his grip.

“Bloody hell, Potter, are you trying to make me as blind as you are?” Frowning, Draco reached up and pulled Harry’s glasses off, tossing them somewhere to the side. Harry blinked. “Your stupid glasses were nearly gauging my eyes out!” Harry blinked again, which was when Draco actually caught sight of Harry’s eyes. It was unnerving how piercing they were when not shielded behind glass. He squirmed slightly, trying to pull back, but his tie was still in Harry’s fist. “P-Potter…” His fingers curled against Harry’s chest.

Harry shook his head slightly, a shiver running down his spine as Draco’s nails scraped against his skin. Without hesitating he leaned forward again, eyes already closed, and kissed Draco gently. It was unlike any other kiss they’d shared thus far, and Draco shuddered, rearing back slightly. Harry only followed his movement, wrapping an arm around Draco’s neck to pull him closer. Both boys shivered as bare skin touched for the first time, and Draco surrendered to the light probing of the Gryffindor’s tongue and opened his mouth.

It was the previous week all over again. Harry let the feelings wash over him, clouding his mind and warming his cheeks. He felt Draco rise up a little, onto his knees, and tried to follow. Draco didn’t let him, however, and instead used the height advantage to impulsively run his hands through Harry’s thick hair. He found it to be unexpectedly soft, and dug his fingers in further, tilting Harry’s head back to gain better access to his mouth. Harry let Draco do what he wanted, ashamedly enjoying the feel of his tongue being wrapped around the other boy’s. His grip on Draco’s tie loosened gradually, until his hand slowly fell away and came to rest on the ground behind him, holding him up as Draco continued to try to push him back. The arm he’d had wrapped around Draco’s neck lowered, running up and down the boy’s slightly sweaty back. Draco shuddered and arched into Harry, and Harry was finally able to rise up onto his knees as well to meet Draco straight on. He ran his hand up into Draco’s silky hair and tugged.

Draco’s head fell back and Harry’s mouth fell to the crook between Draco’s neck and shoulders. He ran his tongue over the skin there, tasting the slight saltiness of it from the sweat that was building up. Draco’s eyes squeezed shut even tighter than they had been before, and he unconsciously let out a low, guttural moan as Harry sucked lightly.

The sound went straight to Harry’s groin, as well as caused several gasps to sound about the circle. Harry, however, either ignored the gasps or just plain didn’t hear them, as his world had been reduced to just himself and the boy’s neck he was currently sucking.

Harry’s head came up again and his and Draco’s mouths crashed together, tongues working furiously trying to gain dominance against each other. Harry broke away for a second, panting, before leaning back in again against Draco’s swollen lips. Draco’s hands lowered from Harry’s hair and rested on his shoulders, before one arm wrapped around his neck and the other ran down Harry’s chest. Then he pushed, and Harry finally gave way and lost his balance, falling backwards until his head cracked against the ground. Draco fell on top of him, and then they were a cursing tangle of arms and legs, trying to straighten themselves out again.

“Ow! Bloody fuck, that hurt! What the hell are you trying to pull, Malfoy?” Harry gasped, feeling the back of his head for the bump he was sure would be there. He cursed again, before opening his eyes to stare at the slightly blurry figure above him. Squinting, he suddenly remembered that his glasses had been cast aside earlier. Draco appeared to be staring at him in complete confusion, one hand holding him up above Harry while the other rubbed at his neck.

“Were you _sucking_ my _neck_ , Potter?” Draco finally asked, giving the boy an incredulous look. Harry promptly blushed and glanced off to the side.

“Er…” He fished around for something to say, before meeting Draco’s stare again. “Why, were you _enjoying_ it?”

“Certainly not!” Draco exclaimed, pushing completely off of Harry and turning around to find his shirt. Harry sat up slowly, reaching for his glasses as he kept his eyes on the blond.

“I think you did.”

“What the hell gives you that idea?” Everyone else around the circle remained silent, watching the argument as if it was a tennis match, eyes shifting back and forth between whoever was speaking.

“I dunno, Malfoy,” Harry replied, shrugging his own shirt back on and starting to do up the buttons. “It might have been that you were all moaning and groaning and obviously having a good time.” He grinned smugly as Draco paused for a split second.

“And apparently your hearing is as bad as your eyesight, Potter,” he said stiffly, redoing his tie and glaring at the boy.

“No, actually, Malfoy, you really were moaning,” Hermione spoke up, looking flustered and giddy.

“Shut up!” Draco snapped furiously, his face going pink. “No one asked you, you filthy little mudblood!”

“Don’t call her that, Malfoy!” Ron shouted.

“Shove it, Weasley!”

“All right, all right!” Pansy cut in. “Enough! Back to your seats. It’s not the end of the night, you know.” Glowering at each other, Harry and Draco returned to their sides of the circle while Ron simply scowled.

* * *

Harry’s second surprise of the night came from Neville. The boy had called on Harry during his turn, and Harry decided that because, one, it was Neville and he could trust him not to ask any dangerous questions, and two, he and Draco had already done their dare of the night, he’d be safe to choose truth.

Or not.

“Harry, truth or dare?” Neville asked, grinning at the other boy.

“Erm…” Harry paused, thinking it over. “Truth, I suppose.” He smiled back innocently.

Neville, however, frowned slightly. “Um…well, Harry…d-do you… _like_ kissing Malfoy?”

Harry froze, and his eyes shot open. “Uhh…” He desperately wanted to say no, that he had hated it, that he never wanted to experience anything so disgusting ever again…but because they were witches and wizards playing Truth or Dare, there was an aspect to the game that was different than normal Truth or Dare. You had to tell the truth. The honest-to-God, _real_ truth. It was almost as if each player had sipped Veritaserum before starting, except that wasn’t the case. No one could really explain why it was at it was; perhaps it had something to do with the magical fields at Hogwarts, but it was literally impossible to lie on a truth question.

Thus, Harry was forced to answer. “Well…it’s…it’s not that I like kissing _Malfoy_ ,” he stuttered, “I just like the kissing!” He blushed as those words left his mouth. “I-I mean…I pretty much just try to ignore that it’s him-” Draco scowled from across the circle. “-and I focus more on the kiss itself. He’s not a bad kisser, really…” Harry shut up after that and blushed bright red. He hadn’t meant to say that last bit.

Draco smirked. “So who enjoyed what, now?”

“Oh, sod you, Malfoy.”

* * *

The third and final surprise of the night wasn’t so much a surprise just for Harry, but rather for everyone, and as a direct result of it quite a few people wouldn’t show up to the following Saturday night games for fear of their own innocence.

It kind of came out of nowhere, and it was Millicent who thought of it. It had been Terry’s turn and he’d chosen dare, and because he was the last one of the night to go, Millicent decided to end things with a bang.

And a forewarning, though the people it was directed at took no notice.

“Boot, I dare you to…” The bulky girl glanced around the circle, looking for a girl who fit her needs. “Ah, Parvati.” Parvati glanced up in question. “Boot, I dare you to go down on Parvati.”

Now, Harry, in all his naïve innocence, wasn’t actually sure what this meant until Parvati had shucked off her knickers, sat down spread eagle in a chair, and Terry’s head had disappeared beneath her skirt. After that, Harry sat and stared, completely wide-eyed, at what was happening.

Parvati’s cheeks flushed a deep red as she threw her head back, her breath coming in gasps. Harry sucked in a breath as he watched her, every muscle in his body tensing. For whatever reason, his eyes sought Draco across from him, and he noticed that the blond was staring intensely at Parvati. His mouth was still swollen from their earlier escapade and Harry found his own breath becoming short as he quickly swung his gaze back to Parvati. He was uncomfortable watching her though, and instead turned to look at Ron. That proved to be a bad idea, however, when he found his friend staring in rapt attention, eyes glazed over, and Harry could have sworn he was drooling.

Harry grimaced, and glanced to his other side at Hermione. He was relieved to see that she at least was looking at the display in slight disapproval.

As he continued to look around the circle, he found that that seemed to be the norm. His fellow students were either shaking their heads in disapproval, or they were drooling in awe. A few girls actually looked jealous.

Sighing, Harry finally allowed his eyes to roam back to Parvati. She was clutching the sides of her chair by now, and somehow her legs had ended up over Terry’s shoulders. She seemed to be close to…well…well, Harry could only assume what she was close to, but as her breaths grew even closer together and her gasps grew louder, Harry’s own palms began to grow sweaty and he clutched them tightly together in his lap. Unintentionally, his eyes found Draco again, and he was surprised to see the boy staring back at him, a smirk playing on his lips.

Harry glared at him, but Draco just raised an amused eyebrow. Off to the side, he suddenly heard Parvati let out a particularly loud gasp, followed by a loud, high-pitched moan. He blinked, whipping his head around only to find Terry smiling embarrassedly at Parvati and scratching his head as the girl panted in the chair, appearing completely boneless.

Harry felt inexplicably horrified that he’d been locked in some sort of bizarre staring contest with Draco while one of the prettiest girls in his year had an orgasm right in front of him. He felt he probably should have been staring unashamedly at her like the other boys. Nervously glancing back at Draco, he found that he had already turned his attention elsewhere, looking completely bored.

Harry sighed.

How had he gotten himself into this mess?


	3. Chapter 3

Harry felt uncomfortable and testy all week. He was sure that everyone was staring at him all the time. It was quite a different sort of attention he was used to receiving. Everywhere he looked, there was another one of his classmates smirking at him or smiling oddly, sometimes even looking a bit disgusted, and it was really starting to bother him.

“Seamus,” he said on Monday as the two of them were walking towards their Potions class. “Um, when you decided to…to be open about…um…”

“Being gay?” Seamus asked.

“Er, yes, that,” Harry replied, glancing off to the side. “Did people ever give you trouble about it?” Seamus blinked, looking thoughtful.

“No, not really,” he replied, before sighing. “Well, I mean… I guess there’s always going to be someone who’s disgusted by it, or uncomfortable with it, or something, and they definitely show it. But you can’t hide who you are just because of a couple of people.” Harry nodded absently, wincing as Justin chuckled and shook his head when he walked by. “Why do you ask, anyway? Something you’d like to tell me, eh, Harry?” Seamus grinned suggestively at his fellow Gryffindor.

“What? Seamus- No!” Harry spluttered. “It’s just…this whole thing with-with Malfoy…and the dares. I’ve noticed some people sneering at me about it. So I was just wondering.”

“Yeah, that happens. You learn to ignore it. After all, the only people whose opinions I care about don’t seem to mind.”

“Hmm. Yeah, I don’t mind. Not really,” Harry said, and Seamus gave him a genuine smile.

“And that means a lot to me, Harry, really. Thanks.” Harry smiled back. As the two boys turned the corner and were nearing Snape’s classroom, they noticed some of the Slytherins approaching from the opposite direction. “Oy, look Harry, it’s your clandestine lover,” Seamus quipped cheerfully. Pansy snickered from beside Draco.

“Funny, Finnigan,” Draco scowled as Harry shot Seamus an annoyed look. “You’re very amusing.”

“Malfoy,” Harry said guardedly. Draco glanced at him, eyes narrowing.

“Potter.” The two stood there, glaring at each other for about a minute before Pansy sighed exasperatedly.

“Oh honestly,” she exclaimed, and shoved Draco aside so she could make her way into the classroom. Draco looked scandalized, and started brushing down his clothes.

“So, Malfoy,” Seamus smirked, raising an eyebrow, “are those hickeys on your neck, or did you suddenly develop a rash?” Draco’s hand shot to cover the side of his neck and his eyebrows furrowed as Harry winced. Both boys glanced briefly at each other and blushed slightly, before their gazes slid off to the side.

“Whatever,” Draco grumbled, turning to follow Pansy. His hand was still covering his neck. Seamus started snickering, but Harry elbowed him slightly.

“What?” he said, trying to appear innocent. Harry frowned at him, his cheeks still pink. Ron and Hermione turned the corner at that moment, and Ron started waving wildly.

“Hey, mate, missed you after last class. Where’d you go?” he asked, smiling widely. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, entering the classroom without answering. Ron frowned, and glanced at Seamus. “Did I say something?” Seamus grinned.

“Nah.”

* * *

Harry managed to avoid running into Draco for the next few days. It was odd, because it seemed as if the boy was suddenly showing up everywhere. Before, Harry had never gone out of his way to avoid him, so he was pretty sure that Draco had probably always been around, it’s just that’d he’d never been actively looking for him. Now, though, every time he peered around a corner, or was walking towards the Great Hall or classes they didn’t even have together, Harry would see that blond head. It was kind of unnerving.

It came to an end on Friday, though, outside of Potions once again. Harry was walking by himself, worrying about the following evening, when he was suddenly slammed into the wall. He gasped, hands coming up to claw at the arms that were clenched around his robes.

“M-M-Malfoy!” he gasped, glaring into the silver eyes in front of him. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” He looked around, wondering how he’d managed to find himself in a deserted hall with Draco Malfoy of all people. Draco shoved him back against the wall again.

“Do you know,” he ground out, looking furious, “that because of you I’ve had to wear turtlenecks all week long?!” Harry blinked, paused, and then blinked again.

“Um,” Harry snickered, “I’m sorry?”

“It’s not funny, Potter! People keep looking at me funny, especially Snape, because everyone knows I don’t wear the same type of outfit more than two days in a row!” Draco leaned in closer as he said this, and Harry attempted to become one with the wall.

“Malfoy, I hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t think anyone really notices what outfits you wear, much less when you wear them.” Harry lowered his eyes, glancing at the charcoal grey turtleneck that the boy was wearing, before meeting Draco’s eyes again. “I mean, I certainly never noticed.”

Draco rolled his eyes and released Harry, stepping back a slight bit, though there was still barely any room between them. “Well I’d be a little worried if you were paying _that_ close attention to me, Potter,” he said, crossing his arms, “Wouldn’t I?” Harry also crossed his arms, mirroring the other boy’s stance.

“I’m pretty sure everyone understands, anyway. After all,” he raised an eyebrow, “who _doesn’t_ know what you’re trying to hide? Except for Snape, maybe.” Draco sneered, pushing Harry against the wall again.

“Well I’m not exactly as proud of it as you seem to be,” he scowled, that now familiar pink color spreading across his nose.

“Malfoy!” a voice interrupted before Harry could reply. Draco quickly dropped Harry’s robes and stepped back. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Ron ran up, glancing warily at the Slytherin before turning to Harry. “You alright, mate?”

“He looks fine, Ron,” Hermione said exasperatedly as she walked up to the group.

“Really, Weasley, did you have to interrupt? It was just getting interesting.” Pansy came walking around the corner, followed by a rather large group of their peers, from all houses. Harry promptly blushed and Draco blinked a couple of times, lips set in a thin line.

“Have…have you all been there the whole time?” Harry asked. Pansy shook her short hair slightly, and made an indifferent gesture with her hand.

“We were hoping something worthwhile would happen,” she sighed. “But apparently you two are incapable of doing anything useful for yourselves.”

“And what exactly did you think they would do?” Ron asked incredulously as Hermione shifted slightly and glanced off to the side.

“Really, Pansy, I hate to agree with the Weasel, but you’ve been acting like a mad woman lately. It’s becoming increasingly worrying,” Draco said, crossing his arms.

“Hush, Draco, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I have nothing but your best interests in mind,” Pansy sniffed haughtily, raising her chin a bit. “Now come on, or we’re going to be late for class, and Professor Snape doesn’t tolerate _anyone_ being late, much less the entire class.”

“Oh, shoot, you’re right,” Hermione spoke up, glancing at her watch. “We’re already two minutes-“

“Late? Yes, that is correct,” a low voice said, and every student in the hallway jumped slightly and turned to glance nervously at their Potions professor. Snape glanced around the hall slowly, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “May I inquire as to what is so enthralling out in the hall that every one of you felt the need to be out here, rather than in your rightful seat in my classroom?” No one said anything; they all just stared apprehensively at the dark-haired man. Snape exhaled harshly through his nose. “Alright, everybody in. You’ll be staying fifteen extra minutes to make up what you’re missing now, and I’ll not be writing you passes to your next class.” He pointed to the open door of his classroom. “Just be glad I’m not assigning each and every one of you a detention,” he said, as the entire group trudged into the room.

Harry sighed. He was so glad it was almost the weekend, because it gave him two days off from gits like Snape and Mal-

Oh…bugger.

* * *

“Harry,” Ron asked, later that night when the three were gathered in the Gryffindor common room. “Can I ask you something?” Harry looked at his friend in confusion.

“Yeah, Ron, of course you can.” Ron looked slightly nervous.

“Don’t get angry.”

Harry’s forehead furrowed. “Ok.”

“There’s…um, there’s nothing going on between you and…Malfoy, is there?” Ron winced as soon as the words left his mouth, as if waiting for an explosion. Harry blinked.

“What- Ron- NO! Why the bloody hell would you even ask? Me and Malfoy? That’s disgusting! I don’t…I don’t like boys!” Harry exclaimed. Hermione made a disapproving sound, but he ignored her.

“I know, I know, I didn’t think so, but…I just had to ask!” Ron said, holding up his hands defensively.

“WHY?” Harry asked, still a bit shocked. People didn’t actually think that, did they??

“Well, it’s just that the other day you were talking with Seamus, and then today that episode with you and Malfoy, and then last Saturday when you said you liked kissing him, and-”

“Ron, let’s get one thing straight,” Harry cut in, leaning forward and glancing around the room to check for eavesdroppers. “I don’t like kissing _him_.” He blushed. “I just…I can’t help it if he’s a… _good_ kisser. And it’s not like I wanted to say that, it just sort of came out. I didn’t…um…a-and Seamus, well, we’re friends, so there’s nothing wrong with talking to him. And the thing with Malfoy today, well, he started that! Something about having to wear turtlenecks all week….” Harry trailed off, looking helplessly at Ron and then glancing to Hermione as if looking for help, but she just shrugged and continued with her homework.

“Yeah, see, that was another thing, Harry,” Ron said, scratching the back of his head. “That whole…kissing Malfoy’s neck thing-”

“Sucking,” Hermione corrected absently, “sucking and licking, to be precise.” Ron rolled his eyes, nose wrinkling in disgust.

“Right, that whole _sucking_ Malfoy’s neck thing… Well, you weren’t dared to do that or anything and-”

“I just got caught up in the moment!” Harry exclaimed desperately. “Ron, I couldn’t help it! I didn’t mean to, he just…it…he…he’s good at it!” Harry was sure his face was as bright as a tomato right about now.

“Harry…”

“No, Ron, I mean it. _You_ try kissing him, see what it’s like. Hell, try kissing anyone for that matter, you get caught up in things!”

“Ew, Harry, that’s disgusting,” Ron frowned. Harry glared at him.

“Well how do you think I feel?”

“You seem to enjoy it!” Harry frowned, and stood up.

“Fine, Ron, whatever. Think what you want, I’m going to bed.” He turned quickly and began trudging up the stairs.

“Harry!” Hermione called exasperatedly as Ron crossed his arms and sulked on the couch. Harry ignored her.

* * *

Draco wasn’t surprised when Harry arrived the following night in a foul mood, because he was feeling the exact same way. There was no telling what kind of horrid thing they would have to do tonight. If Boot’s and whichever-of-the Patil-twins-it-had-been’s dare the previous week was any sign, then things were bound to get worse rather than better. And apparently several of his classmates had figured this out as well, because their group had been reduced to about fifteen students. Even Crabbe and Goyle hadn’t wanted to come, but Draco had forced them to, because he figured if he had to suffer then his friends should as well. The Gryffindors were all there, no surprise, but the Hufflepuffs were pretty much completely absent. That Finch-Fletchley kid had shown up, along with one or two others, and there were a couple of Ravenclaws present.

The game started out as usual, and Draco was surprised that people actually still found new things to come up with that held everyone’s interest. He carefully avoided picking truth because he was afraid of what he might have to admit, and he managed to not get any disturbing dares with Harry either.

About an hour into the party, however, after Harry had been dared to kissed Hermione, because someone thought it would be amusing, Draco received a bit of a shock.

“Ron,” Harry called out, and Draco belatedly noticed that they weren’t sitting next to each other in the circle, “Truth or dare?” The Weasel looked nervous, but chose dare anyway. Stupid Gryffindors. Harry grinned, and something about it suddenly made Draco feel very anxious. “Well Ron,” Harry was saying, “since you didn’t believe me earlier-”

“Oh, Harry, no! I believe you, really! I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking, I-”

“Too late, Ron,” Harry looked very pleased with himself, and when Ron glanced at Draco resignedly, the blond felt his stomach turn. He wouldn’t… “I dare you to kiss Malfoy.” He would. Draco groaned.

“Erm… _just_ kiss, Harry?” Weasley looked hopeful, and Draco prayed he wasn’t hoping for more.

“Yeah, just kiss, Ron. I’ll be nice.” Harry’s grin widened. “But a real kiss, mind you. None of that tightlipped stuff we started out with.” Pansy burst out laughing at that, and even Hermione giggled slightly. Ron looked at her in shock.

“Alright then, hop to it, Weasley,” Pansy said, grinning widely. “This I’ve _got_ to see. A Malfoy kissing a Weasley! Ha!” Draco crossed his arms and sulked.

“You know, I thought kissing Potter was bad, but I’m almost _positive_ that this will be about a million times worse,” he growled, eyes narrowing. “I know Potter at least went through that disaster with the Chang girl, but somehow I think you’re a complete innocent, aren’t you, Weasel?” Ron blushed a shade of red that almost matched his hair, and Draco smirked. “I’m right, aren’t I? You mean you haven’t been snogging the mudblood? There’s a running bet going, you kn-”

“Shut up, Malfoy!” Harry shouted at the same time that Ron lunged across the circle and grabbed Draco’s shirt.

“Oh, eager are we?” Draco grinned nastily. Ron blushed further and dropped his shirt as if he’d been burned.

“Harry!” he whined, turning to the boy. Harry just shook his head.

“The dare’s still on. Maybe next time you should listen to me.”

“That’s right, Potter,” Pansy said, smiling slightly. “We’ll make a Slytherin out of you yet!” Harry gave her a pained smile.

“Come on then, Ron,” Seamus spoke up, and Hermione, sitting next to him, nodded as well. She seemed to have completely ignored Draco’s previous comment. Draco grimaced when Ron turned to him. He looked extremely nervous, and leaned forward a little. Then he paused, backed up a bit, leaned forward again, and paused again. Glancing around, he let out a breath, closed his eyes, and puckered his lips in a way that left Draco cringing. Just as Ron leaned forward again, apparently hoping to hit his target, Draco reared back and put a hand up to stop him.

“Stop, Weasley, just…stop. God, I was kidding but you’ve proved me right again.” He rubbed his forehead tiredly and Ron opened his eyes and looked annoyed. “I’ll lead. You just…just sit there, or something. And _relax_ , for Salazar’s sake.” Ron sat back on his heels, looking disgruntled, and started when Draco grasped his chin.

Draco leaned forward, swallowing his disgust, and kissed Ron gently. Ron’s eyes squeezed shut and his hands clenched the material of his pants. Draco, whose eyes were still open, found this highly amusing, and ran his tongue lightly across the Weasel’s bottom lip, a trick he’d learned from Potter, ironically enough. Ron gasped, eyes shooting open but unable to break away because his chin was still in Draco’s grasp. He vaguely felt the blond boy’s lips curve into a smirk against his own, before his mouth was coaxed open for a brief second, and he groaned at the feeling of another tongue against his own. It was gone about three seconds later, and Draco released him, wiping his mouth as had become habit.

Ron stared stupidly at him, and Draco snapped his fingers a couple times in front of his face, getting no response.

“Hey, Potter, I think I was too much for the Weasel here to handle!” Draco exclaimed, for some reason feeling pleased that he could have this effect on _Weasley_ of all people. He looked at Harry, grinning smugly, but it faded when he saw the look on the boy’s face. He looked…angry? “Potter?” Harry blinked suddenly, and smirked.

“Maybe now he’ll believe me, eh, Malfoy?” Draco smirked back.

“I am amazing,” he claimed. Ron frowned at him at that point, his eyes finally clearing, before standing up and quietly moving to sit next to Hermione, sullenly glaring at the ground. Harry just laughed slightly.

* * *

There was an exciting moment for Harry that night when he thought he’d be getting off easy. Though it struck him a bit funny that he now considered a simple, fully-clothed snogging session with Malfoy as “getting off easy.”

Then his mind took the phrase “getting off” and supplied him with vague images of a blond-haired boy and himself and sweat-covered bodies…

He quickly shook his head, startled, and shoved that thought to the deep recesses of his mind, swearing to never think about it again under penalty of a self-induced _Avada Kedavra_.

In any case, Harry was not, by any means, off the hook. It was one of the last turns of the night, following the episode with Ron and then he and Draco’s latest snog, and it was Terry who made it up.

“Harry, truth or dare?” Terry asked, tapping his fingers against the ground in a bored manner.

“Dare,” Harry replied, since he wasn’t about to pick truth again, _ever_. And then Terry smirked at him, and he began to think that maybe that wasn’t such a good choice.

“I dare you to give Draco a hand job,” he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Harry coughed and Draco made an outraged noise.

“Ooohh, good one, Terry!” Millicent grinned.

“Um, excuse me?” Harry asked meekly, hoping that he’d possibly heard wrong or something.

“Hand job. Draco. Wanking? You know?”

“I know what it means!” Harry snapped, and then sighed. He crawled across to Draco, who was leaning up against the wall, and stared down at his hand.

“You are _not_ touching me, Potter,” Draco said in a low voice, hands pressed into his lap. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Malfoy-”

“No.”

“But-”

“ _NO_.”

“Look, Malfoy, it’s not like I actually _want_ to touch you… _there_ …but that’s the dare! It’s not my fault!” Harry exclaimed in exasperation.

“Potter,” Draco said, glancing at the boy out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t think you’re hearing me. You. Are. Not. Touching. Me!” Harry let out a breath, blowing his bangs off his forehead and slightly revealing his scar for a brief second.

“Fine,” he said, shrugging. “Alright. You give up then?” Draco’s eyes flashed, and he whipped his head around to look at Harry straight on.

“I don’t give up!” he said shortly. Harry cocked his head to the side.

“So then…” And suddenly it seemed like the entire group was holding its breath.

“Oh…bugger all, alright! Alright, alright, alright, _fine_. Just…whatever,” Draco muttered, crossing his arms and looking away, his face flushing slightly. He hunched over a bit and looked moody. Harry blinked and glanced across at Pansy, who gestured towards her friend as if to say, ‘Well, go on!’ Harry swallowed nervously, and kneeled in front of the blond. “Your hands are shaking,” Draco said softly, face steadily growing a deeper pink. Harry swallowed again.

“Um…y-yeah. Well, I suppose I’m a bit nervous,” he mumbled. Draco snorted. Harry leaned forward, his hand brushing against Draco’s crotch as he reached for the zipper on his pants. He paused, eyes widening, and Draco winced. “Heh, well I can see it’s not going to take much.”

“Shut up,” Draco whispered, eyes narrowing and his face turning bright red. Harry smirked, suddenly feeling much more confident. Before he could change his mind, he quickly undid Draco’s belt and zipper, and before Draco could figure out what had happened, Harry’s hand was down his pants.

He squeaked, in a most un-Malfoy-ish manner, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He stared wide-eyed at Harry and Harry grinned nervously. “Er…” Draco stuttered, and then gasped and leaned his head back against the wall when he felt Harry’s fingers curling around his semi-hard member. He breathed in deep, and both boys bit their bottom lip when Harry’s hand started moving.

The room was completely silent, save for Draco’s harsh breathing. He tried keeping his eyes open, but they kept fluttering every time his breath hitched and eventually he gave up. Soon after that he forgot there was even anyone else in the room, and when Harry’s hand tightened slightly, he moaned out loud. It was the same low, guttural sound that had made Harry’s head spin before, and he pulled his hand away for half a second to spit in it before returning his attention back to Draco with renewed vigor.

Draco gasped again, and one of his hands came up to grasp at Harry’s shoulder. “P-P-Potter!” he exclaimed, taking a deep breath while his head twisted to the side.

“Like that?” Harry muttered, eyes on Draco’s face. Something in his chest twisted as he looked at the boy’s flushed cheeks. Draco’s eyes were screwed shut and his lips were parted slightly as he drew in ragged breaths. Harry swallowed and quickened the pace of his hand. He received a groan in response, and Draco eyes came to rest on Harry in a half-lidded gaze. Then his whole body seized up and his eyes squeezed shut, jaw dropping in a silent scream as he came into Harry’s hand. Harry blinked, still staring at Draco as he breathed heavily.

“Shit, Potter,” Draco breathed. Harry chuckled and held up his hand, which was covered in Draco’s sticky essence.

“Hey, Malfoy?”

“What?” He opened one eye to look tiredly at Harry.

“Truth or dare?” Draco blinked, becoming more aware of where he was. Blushing pink, he quickly did up his pants again, and shoved his hands into his lap. “Um…” He considered picking truth, but he figured Harry wouldn’t be making any dares that involved the two of them, and quite frankly he was scared he’d have to admit that he’d just experienced the best wank he’d ever had, so he decided to go with dare. “Dare, I suppose.” Harry shoved his hand into Draco’s face, and the blond grimaced.

“I dare you to lick it off… _all_ of it.”

“Potter! Oh, how delightful!” Pansy exclaimed.

“How disgusting,” Ron muttered.

“S’not so bad,” Seamus and Lavender grinned.

“I hate you,” mumbled Draco. Harry shrugged. Sighing, Draco leaned forward and just kind of stared at the hand in front of him for a bit. Then he grabbed Harry’s wrist and slowly licked up one of the fingers. It tasted salty and bitter, but overall it wasn’t so horrible that he couldn’t deal with it. He moved onto the second finger, inserting the whole digit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. He heard Harry’s sharp intake of breath, and paused, before grinning around his finger. Slowly, he sucked his way back up, releasing it and moving onto the third. His mouth moved up and down, bobbing as if intimidating something Harry had only experienced in his dreams.

Harry could feel himself starting to sweat as his pants grew uncomfortably tight. He shifted slightly, trying to pull his hand away from Draco, but the blond held on tight, continuing with those damnable swirls of his tongue. It was wet and warm, and Harry’s breaths were coming in gasps now and he tried to calm himself down but it just wouldn’t work. By the time Draco had finally finished with his entire hand, Harry felt miserable and uncomfortable, wishing he’d never dared him to do such a thing, but at the same also wishing they could move to a private room so he could make Draco finish what he’d started. But Harry was completely aware of all the eyes staring at him, and it was making him squirm.

“Truth or dare, Potter?” Draco asked, almost teasingly. Harry swallowed nervously.

“Truth,” he said miserably, knowing he was condemning himself to something but too worried about what Draco might dare him to do next.

“Just how turned on are you right now?” Harry’s eyes shut in shame, and he felt his cheeks burn.

“Are we done?” he asked.

“Once you answer that question,” Pansy answered. Harry stood up and headed for the door, but paused.

“Very, and uncomfortably so,” he answered, and lifted his head to glance at everyone in the room, before stopping at Draco. “So…I think I’m going to go take care of it.” He smirked, watching Draco’s eyes widen, and swept out of the room.

“So! Who has ideas for next week?” Pansy exclaimed cheerfully.

* * *

It was the following Tuesday that found Harry walking out of the Great Hall by himself. He’d been tetchy since Saturday, not talking much to anyone. As he headed to Transfiguration, he found himself suddenly yanked into an empty classroom. Thrown off balance, his bag dropped to the ground and he stumbled into one of the desks, hearing the door click shut behind him.

“What-” He glanced up, frowning when he saw Draco leaning against the closed door, arms crossed and one foot propped up against it. “Malfoy. What do you want?” Draco looked slightly uncomfortable and angry all at the same time. His eyes were narrowed, and he stared calculatingly at the black-haired boy in front of him.

“I know what the next dare will be,” he said, eventually. Harry blinked, glancing around the room before raising an eyebrow at Draco.

“Oh?” he asked, nervously. Draco took a deep breath.

“It’s a bit obvious really.”

“…”

“…”

“Well are you going to tell me?” Harry finally asked, getting tired of the long silence. He didn’t want to be with Draco any longer than he had to. Draco rolled his eyes.

“I thought you might have guessed.”

“No…”

“Blowjob, Potter, it’s going to be a blowjob,” Draco sighed, shoulders drooping.

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”

“From…did they get that idea from…from the hand thing?”

“Probably.”

“Oh.” There was another lengthy pause, and by this point Harry was sure they were late for class. “Um, well I should-”

“It’s going to be me,” Draco cut in. Harry blinked, and Draco grimaced.

“What is?”

“They’ll make me do it to you.”

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t.”

“…”

“I’m just…very certain about it. Almost positive.”

“Oh.” It occurred to Harry that this was probably the longest the two of them had ever been near each other without going at the other’s throat…eh, in more ways than one.

“Is that all you can say?” Draco asked exasperatedly.

“Well, what do you want me to do?” Harry asked in the same tone. Draco sighed, looking nervous, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Look, Potter, here’s the thing. I don’t like you. I hate losing to you, I hate… _embarrassing_ myself in front of you-”

“Aww, Malfoy, I’m touched."

“Shut up, Potter!” He dragged another hand through his hair, and Harry realized this must be a nervous gesture of his. “As I was saying…as much as I hate all of that…I’d rather lose face to just one person rather than fifteen or twenty. And it’s not like I know what I’m doing, because I’ve certainly never…never done it to anyone before.” Draco stopped talking there, brow furrowed and lips pressed thinly together, but Harry kept waiting for him to continue.

“And that means…?” Harry prompted, when he realized nothing else was coming. Draco sighed and walked over to lean against the desk that Harry was sitting on. He crossed his arms again and started tapping his foot against the floor, before finally blurting out his answer.

“It means I think we should practice before Saturday.”


	4. Chapter 4

Practice…practice…practice?

Malfoy wanted them to _practice_??

Harry’s eyes were wide behind his glasses. His arms were crossed and he could feel his fingers digging hard into his biceps. He vaguely wondered why he felt so nervous.

“Practice _what?_ ” he finally managed to get out. The pink in Draco’s face spread and Harry watched in slight amusement as even his ears became consumed in the color.

“You cannot possibly be that dense,” Draco muttered, still staring straight ahead. He didn’t seem to want to look at Harry.

“You mean you actually _want_ to give me a…a…a _blowjob_ more than once?” Harry asked incredulously, and not a little hysterically. Draco’s hands slammed down on the desk and he whipped around to glare at Harry.

“ _No_ , Potter, I most definitely do _not_ , but I also don’t want to look like a fool in front of everyone,” he said, voice strangely calm. It unnerved Harry, because it simply didn’t match the burning look in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you feel more like a fool if everyone wondered why you seemed really good at it?” Harry asked weakly. He felt slightly triumphant when Draco blinked and appeared to think that over.

“No,” he decided, and Harry’s shoulders drooped. “They’ll just think I have natural talent.”

“Or that you’re naturally gay,” came the muttered response. Draco shot him a look and Harry immediately shut up. “So…you want to practice then.” Draco nodded, pinking again. Harry sighed, and fidgeted with his hands, picking at spare threads on his robes. Uncomfortable silence spread through the classroom they were in, and as Harry kicked lightly at the leg of the desk he was sitting on with his heel, he vaguely noted that there was no way he could show up for class now. Then he berated himself for thinking about attending class when there were clearly much more dire things happening at present. “You…um, you don’t want to,” he swallowed, “practice _now_ , do you?”

Draco looked startled, which immediately regressed into slightly panicked, and Harry felt inexplicably relieved. “Oh. No, not now,” he answered. “Class and all, you know,” he continued to explain, with a vague gesture of his hand. Harry decided not to point out that there was no way Draco could make it to his next class by now.

“Tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow??” Draco’s voice cracked, and he coughed, before continuing in a much gruffer tone, “Yeah, tomorrow’s fine. We just need to find a room where no one will,” he shuddered, “walk in on us.”

“The Room of Requirement,” Harry mumbled, not sure if he really wanted to share that with Draco, but then he remembered that he must already be somewhat aware of it because of the previous year…

“What?”

“The Room of Requirement,” Harry repeated, louder this time. “It’s…well, it’s where you captured the lot of us last year, remember?” he asked, voice not a little bitter. Draco sniffed haughtily, raising his chin slightly.

“I seem to vaguely recall something of the sort,” he replied. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Just meet me on the seventh floor tomorrow. After dinner?”

“Can’t, quidditch practice.”

“Well, when’s that over?”

“Eight.”

“Eight then.”

“I’ll have to shower first.”

“Then at eight-thirty!” Harry said tightly, suddenly feeling very tired and grumpy. Draco looked affronted.

“No need to get huffy.”

“Look, Malfoy, this was _your_ idea, I don’t have to show up. You can just practice on…on-”

“If you even dare suggest I try deep-throating inanimate objects, I’ll-”

“That’s not- I mean- UGH. Whatever, Malfoy,” Harry said, exasperatedly. “Look, you’ve already made me miss class and now McGonagall will be on my case… Can I just go?”

“Yes, Potter, you have my permission to leave,” Draco replied mockingly. Harry frowned.

“Tomorrow at eight-thirty, then. Seventh floor.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be there.”

“Right.” Harry glanced at Draco once more, thoughtfully, before turning and exiting the room. Behind him, Draco exhaled deeply, burying his face in his hands.

* * *

Harry paced around the common room for nearly an entire hour the next day after dinner. His actions screamed nervousness, but Ron and Hermione had no idea what he could possibly be nervous about. Adding it up to him fretting about the Saturday parties, they thought it best to not say anything at all, and continued with their homework. Finally, around 7:45, Harry sighed deeply and dumped all of his books and paper back into his bag.

“Where are you off to?” Hermione asked, barely glancing up from her latest essay.

“I can’t concentrate, I need somewhere quieter to work,” Harry answered. He ignored Ron’s raised eyebrow and hoped neither of his friends would mention the fact that the common room was nearly completely silent, as everyone was doing homework. “I’ll just be off then. Um, don’t wait up for me.” He cringed then, thinking that made it sound as if he was going on a date, and that thought made him blush horribly.

Ron and Hermione continued to stare dubiously at him. Harry shifted on his feet, swinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Well…bye then,” he muttered, and quickly left through the portrait. When he arrived at the section of the wall where the Room of Requirement was, he paused, unsure of how to continue. What type of room, exactly, did one need for this type of…practice? Eventually he settled on the idea of ‘comfortable,’ walked past the wall three times, and stepped through the door that appeared.

His eyes squeezed shut when they saw the king size bed that had placed itself in the back of the room.

“Oh, Merlin,” he mumbled, opening one eye to peek around the room. The rest of it wasn’t so bad. There was a comfortable looking couch in font of a fireplace, which burned low, spreading its heat throughout the room. It was very…cozy, which, really, was what he had been going for. Shrugging, Harry dropped his bag onto the table that was in front of the couch, and plopped down onto the soft cushions. He wondered what time it was, and suddenly spotted a clock on the mantle above the fireplace. Five after eight…he had a while. With a sigh, he unloaded his homework and began his Transfiguration essay.

It was actually nearing 8:45 when Draco finally showed up, but Harry had half expected that, so he didn’t comment. “Found the room, I see,” he said instead, when the boy appeared in the doorway.

“Well, it _was_ the only door in this part of the hall,” Draco replied, smirking. His eyes shifted around the room, landing on the bed and then shooting towards Harry, eyebrows raised. “For some reason, I don’t see this being a very practical room to practice defense spells in,” he said snidely. “Wouldn’t want to ruin the lovely curtains, after all.” Harry felt himself blush, and cursed under his breath.

“The Room of _Requirement_ , Malfoy? It gives you what you _require_ ,” he said bitterly. Draco frowned.

“Mind me asking why we require a bed?” he asked darkly, paling slightly under his already blushing face. Harry scowled.

“I didn’t ask for it, the room just put it there.”

“Ah.” Draco’s tone indicated that he clearly didn’t believe the other boy. Harry sighed, and began packing up his books again, moving much slower than was necessary. Apparently it was too fast for Draco, though. “Oh, you needn’t stop on my behalf,” he said quickly. “Homework’s more important.”

“I’ve finished everything for tomorrow. It’s fine,” Harry replied quietly. It was odd, being this civil around Draco. He didn’t want to risk pissing the other boy off, though, especially since he’d soon have his mouth around parts of Harry that he quite liked having, thank-you-very-much.

“Oh.” Draco shifted slightly, looking very uncomfortable, and Harry noticed he was still standing in the open doorway.

“You can come in, you know,” he said, almost amused. “It won’t do to have everyone see you standing there. Once the door shuts no one will be able to find it since the room’s already in use.” Draco still looked uncertain, but stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He slowly moved to the opposite end of the couch and sank gracefully into the seat furthest from Harry, clasping his hands together and leaning on his knees with his elbows. His brow furrowed as he took in the Gryffindor-ish colors of the room, and he seemed to be trying to refrain from saying anything about it.

Harry stared at him, noticing that he was wearing what appeared to be pajamas, though nicer ones than Harry had ever seen. He had on black draw-string pants and a green t-shirt that, quite frankly, looked too nice to be slept in. But then, this _was_ Malfoy… Harry wondered exactly how long the other boy had thought they’d be here, since he was already in his night clothes. He also took that to mean Draco wouldn’t be doing his Prefect rounds later in the night. Harry himself was dressed in a pair of jeans he’d invested in at the end of the summer, after finally growing tired of Dudley’s hand-me-downs, and an unbuttoned, short-sleeved light blue shirt with a white t-shirt underneath. And he still felt underdressed compared to his Slytherin counterpart. He also felt vaguely jealous of the way Draco’s hair fell softly around his ears and barely reached the bottom of his neck. His own still stuck up all over the place, no matter what he tried to do with it.

“Enjoying the view, Potter?” Draco’s voice interrupted his musings, and he frowned.

“Not particularly.” Draco snorted. “So are you going to get started?” This time Draco frowned.

“Am I the only one doing anything?”

“If the dare’s mine, I’ll just wing it,” Harry replied flatly. He wasn’t about to do it more than once, after all. Draco let out a breath.

“Fine.” Then he turned to face Harry, and all at once Harry felt very nervous and dizzy, and embarrassingly enough, his pants started to feel tight. He glanced down in wide-eyed astonishment, and Draco followed his gaze, smirking.

“Eager, much?” he sneered. Harry stared at him for a few seconds, before grinning.

“Malfoy, I’m about to get a blowjob. Boy or girl or whatever, it’s still a mouth, and unless you’re really terrible, it’ll still feel good,” he laughed. Draco grimaced, nodded resignedly, and moved slowly to kneel on the floor in front of Harry. Then he just kind of stared at Harry’s crotch for a bit, clearly uncertain of where to go from there. Harry snickered helplessly, feeling slightly hysterical, his breaths already coming in sharper gasps. He reached down to his zipper, suddenly overly ready to get this started and then done and over with.

“What- wait!” Draco exclaimed, jerking his hands up to stop Harry, but halting just short of touching him. Harry giggled, and then clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he gasped out when Draco stared at him oddly. “Come on, Malfoy! Just get on with it, will you?” Draco bit his bottom lip, and nodded.

“Yeah, alright,” he said quietly, and allowed Harry to unzip his pants. But then Harry paused, embarrassed all over again. “Oh, for Salazar’s sake, you’ve already _held_ mine!” Draco burst out, and yanked Harry’s pants completely off.

“Malfoy!” Harry cried, startled.

“Shut up, Potter, you’ve still got your boxers on.” But then those didn’t matter too much either once Draco reached forward and quickly pulled them off as well. Harry’s hips complied without his permission, rising so that the clothing could be removed.

“Ergh,” Harry mumbled, blushing so bright he felt like he was glowing. Draco released a breath, apparently feeling like he’d overcome at least one obstacle.

“Ready then?” he asked, gently grasping Harry’s cock and staring at it. Harry wished he wouldn’t look at it so closely…

“Erm,” he replied instead, still trying to get used to the feeling of another person touching him so intimately. Draco didn’t wait for any other response, though, and before he could change his mind he was leaning forward and closing him mouth around the top of it.

Harry gasped, hips unintentionally thrusting forward, and he grabbed at the couch material beneath his hands, twisting it in his grip. Draco released him immediately, grimacing, his tongue nearly hanging out of his mouth.

“Augh, gross,” he muttered. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself, and took Harry into his mouth again, deeper this time. Harry gasped once again, and then Draco began moving, mouth sliding up and down, tongue swirling as it had the previous Saturday. Harry, whose head had fallen back against the arm of the couch, stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, hardly able to believe this was happening to him. He was breathing deeply, trying to control himself lest he completely fall apart in front of Draco, and one hand was now resting on his stomach beneath his shirt, stroking his skin absently. Unconsciously, the leg Harry had propped up on the couch shifted out more, to allow Draco more room. Then suddenly Draco sucked upwards and Harry gasped again, hips thrusting forward.

Draco gagged and backed up quickly. “Potter!” he growled.

Panting, Harry could only gasp out, “Sorry!...I’m sorry…I can’t…help it.” Draco’s lips curled upwards, and he didn’t really notice that his hand was still doing the job that his mouth was not. When he did notice, he scowled, and replaced it with his mouth again, instead using his hands to hold Harry’s hips in place so he could do that sucking thing again. Harry continued to pant and gasp, and when Draco took as much of Harry as he could manage into his mouth, and slowly sucked back up, he started to let out a low moan. Hearing himself somewhere in the middle of it, he quickly clamped a hand over his mouth, biting down on one of his fingers to stop himself. His eyes squeezed shut, so he didn’t see Draco’s eyes narrow. On the next suck, his teeth lightly scraped Harry’s skin, and the boy jolted.

“Ouch! Malfoy! What the-” And then he stopped talking because Draco was soothing the skin with his tongue, and really, it hadn’t hurt all that much anyway.

It didn’t take much longer. Harry could suddenly feel every muscle in his body tense and his back arched up off the couch as his world exploded in a blur of sharp pleasure that coursed through his lower stomach and groin. His thighs quivered, and he had to clamp both hands over his mouth so that he could scream silently whilst still biting his finger. Afterwards he lay gasping for breath, listening to Draco choke and cough rapidly.

“Merlin…P-Potter, you c-c-could have _warned_ me!” he complained through his coughs, groaning as well. “Bloody hell, I need something to drink. What the hell does it take to get a glass of water around here? Ew, gross, my mouth, _ugh!_ ” A glass suddenly appeared on the table and Draco snatched it up and downed it, gasping when he slammed it back down on the table. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, “I’d take kissing you over _that_ any day.”

“I dunno, I rather enjoyed it,” Harry sighed, finally able to find his voice. Draco looked at him, seeming unusually pleased.

“Oh? Wasn’t bad, then?”

“Malfoy, I think I can safely say that it was the most useful thing your mouth has ever been involved in when it comes to me.” Draco smirked, and Harry belatedly realized he was only feeding the other boy’s ego. “Your boyfriend will be very pleased,” he quickly added, and Draco’s head seemed to visibly deflate as he scowled, sitting back on the couch. They were both quiet for a few minutes, Draco’s arms crossed as he sulked, while Harry remained boneless, draped across his half of the couch. Draco kept glancing at him and then quickly looking away, until Harry finally realized he was still naked from the waist down. Blushing, he sat up quickly, snatching his boxers off the table where they’d been dropped. He pulled them on, feeling extremely lethargic, and once he was covered he couldn’t be bothered to find his pants. He collapsed back onto the couch and tried hard to hold down the silly grin that threatened to overtake him.

“I have to say,” Draco eventually spoke, shifting on the couch again as he’d been doing for the past few minutes, “I excel at everything I attempt to do.” Harry snorted, but didn’t bother retorting. “Um, and you’re sure you don’t want to…want to give it a go?” Harry looked at him incredulously. “I mean, I suppose it wasn’t too horrible,” Draco continued lightly, obviously trying to convince him. Harry just shook his head.

“Nah, I’m fine, thanks,” he smirked, and Draco scowled at him. He shifted again, and that was when Harry finally noticed that Draco was trying to hide his tenting pants from Harry’s sight. Harry tilted his head to the side, eyes softening. Then he raised his chin slightly, spit into his hand, and grinned slightly at the blond. “I suppose I can return the favor, though.” And with that he was lunging at Draco, who looked at him, startled, and yanked his draw-string pants down.

Draco did that squeaking thing again when Harry wrapped his fingers around him, and Harry chuckled. Draco attempted to sneer at him, but was too distracted by the familiar feel of the other boy’s hand stroking him again. He moaned, knees bending so that he could prop up his feet on the couch, and Harry crawled in between his spread legs. Twisting one hand into his own hair, Draco grit his teeth, breath hissing as he inhaled and exhaled. He could feel those green eyes on him, and opened his own silver eyes to return the stare. Harry’s glasses were crooked and looked as if they were about to slip off due to the sweat building up, so Draco reached up with his other hand and removed them all together, dropping them somewhere off to the side. Neither boy was sure what it was, but they couldn’t look away from each other. Their eyes locked, staring half-closed at each other, and only when Draco’s eyes squeezed shut as his head fell back when he came did they stop their staring contest.

Draco was breathing deeply, and Harry sat back, still staring at him. “Happy now?” he asked, amused at how flushed Draco’s appearance was at the moment. Draco glared at him.

“I suppose it will have to do,” he replied. Harry shrugged.

“Right it will, because that’s all you’re getting at the moment.”

“At the moment?”

“Ever. It’s all you’re getting ever,” Harry amended. Draco snorted, but Harry ignored him, staring at his sticky hand instead. “Does it taste awful?” he asked, slightly curious. Draco blinked.

“Does what taste awful?” he inquired, and when Harry shoved his hand in his face he reared back, nose wrinkling. “It’s…it’s not pleasant,” he said carefully. “Not horrible, but not particularly enjoyable either.” Harry continued to stare thoughtfully at his hand, before tentatively licking his finger. Draco snorted in amusement when Harry’s face contorted.

“Ew, gross,” he muttered, and went to wipe his hand on Draco’s leg, but the blond quickly rolled out of the way, landing softly on the ground.

“Don’t you dare, Potter,” he warned, so Harry wiped his hand on the couch instead. Draco snorted again, and pulled his pants all the way up, since they’d never been completely taken off in the first place. “Are we done here?”

“I believe so. Unless you’re feeling up to sucking me off again.” Harry actually looked hopeful, causing Draco to snicker.

“You wish,” he replied, and then strode out of the room, not willing to spend anymore time in Harry’s presence.

* * *

Saturday rolled around, and with it came an anxious Draco. He wasn’t really looking forward to a repeat of Wednesday, especially with other people watching. Harry was just as nervous, half afraid that he would be the one called on to do the dare. He kept zoning out and losing focus on the game.

“Harry, truth or dare?” he heard Hermione ask, far too early in the game for Harry to have even started to relax and become accustomed with the idea of what he and Draco thought they were going to have to do. Not to mention it was Hermione asking him. She wouldn’t dare him to do… _that_ …would she? Come on, this was _Hermione_. Of course, this was the same girl who, a couple weeks previous, had had no problem flashing her peers… “Harry!”

“Oh!” Harry blinked, coming back to himself. “Sorry. Erm…dare?” Hermione smiled, obviously pleased, and it made Harry nervous because he honestly had no idea what to expect from her.

“Let’s change things up a bit, shall we?” the girl said, and Harry felt a strong urge to hug her. He didn’t care what he had to do, just as long as it didn’t involve Draco and his mouth. Really, anything else would be so much- “I dare you to French kiss Ron.” -worse!

Harry blinked several times in a row and tilted his head to the side, giving Hermione an incredulous look. He vaguely heard Draco snickering in the background, but ignored it. “What? Hermione- no!” he said, lips curling into a slight sneer.

“Why not? I mean, you’ve kissed Malfoy, he’s kissed Malfoy, you might as well kiss each other!” Hermione exclaimed. “Besides, I’ve been kind of curious…”

“Hermione!” Ron shouted, scandalized.

“But…Hermione, it’s _weird_ ,” Harry tried to reason. Hermione shook her head slightly.

“You didn’t mind kissing Malfoy,” she pointed out, and Harry was quick to correct her.

“Um, no, I definitely did. And it’s weird because…well…because Ron’s my friend.”

“Well that’s a lame reason,” Draco spoke up, smirking. Harry again ignored him.

“There’s absolutely no reason for me to kiss Ron,” he insisted. “Come on, Hermione, anyone else! That’d just be too…awkward.”

“Really, Hermione, I’ve had enough of kissing _boys_ ,” Ron said, nose wrinkling to show his distaste. Hermione sighed.

“Yeah, and I wouldn’t mind kissing a _girl_ at some point,” Harry muttered.

“You kissed me last week,” Hermione immediately reminded him. Harry stared at her flatly.

“That didn’t count!” he exclaimed, and Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Oh really?” she asked, sounding vaguely insulted.

“Erm, that’s not what I meant. Um…just, you know, the whole being friends thing…” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Oh, fine. Well, I dare you to French kiss Seamus, then.”

Somehow, Harry didn’t think that was much better.

* * *

Draco was highly amused by the prospect of Potter having to snog his idiot Gryffindor friends. It vaguely occurred to him that maybe he’d be able to see what was so enthralling about watching the boy kiss someone, be it himself or another.

But then he saw Seamus grin in eager anticipation, and felt something in his stomach tighten. Draco frowned, watching Harry blush, roll his eyes, and turn to his fellow Gryffindor. It somehow seemed much easier for Harry this time around. There was no hesitation as he swiftly moved forward, catching Seamus’ grinning lips gently, and Draco could see his mouth opening automatically. Seamus’ eyes closed as he eagerly returned the kiss, and it was only then that Draco remembered that he _would_ be enjoying it, because _he_ was gay.

His stomach tightened further, and he felt his lips curling into a sneer. It was disgusting to watch, really…

Yet he couldn’t look away. There was certainly nothing appealing about the two of them. Really, he could just look away now and ignore the spectacle until it was done and over with. Honestly, it’s not like they would be kissing long anyway; Hermione hadn’t specified an allotted amount of time. Draco’s eyes, however, stayed locked in place.

And something was changing, and he could see it happening, but he wasn’t really sure what it was. Seamus’ hands came up and were gently stroking Harry’s jaw, and the boy quivered slightly under their touch. His head tilted up willingly and Draco could see the Irish boy practically devouring Harry. Draco blinked.

Seamus’ hands lowered, running softly down Harry’s neck and along his shoulders. They followed the path down his arms, fingers curling around his wrists, and Harry shivered slightly. And- what- did he just squeak?? He didn’t do that when-

Draco finally wrenched his eyes away, head turning to glance off to the side. But his eyes only slid back to the display, and they came to rest on Seamus’ hands as his thumbs gently rubbed circles over the inside of Harry’s wrists. Helplessly, he watched as Seamus raised Harry’s wrists above the boy’s head and pushed. Putting up no resistance whatsoever, Harry went with the movement, back landing gently on the floor, and Seamus leaned over him, one leg kneeling between the other boy’s own spread eagle legs. He pinned Harry’s wrists on the floor above his head, and then somehow, Draco wasn’t sure, the kiss became even more intense. Harry arched up into Seamus, a low moan emitting from his throat and-

-and Draco saw red.

He breathed in deeply, eyes narrowing and teeth clenching together. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he was _furious_. That idiot Gryffindor didn’t react like that with _him_. And he’d said, unable to lie, that Draco was a good kisser! So why, _why_ didn’t Draco have that effect on him?! What was so much better about that stupid half-blood? Surely he couldn’t be that much better than Draco, obvious previous experience with boys aside. It was unconceivable.

“Alright, enough already!” Draco exploded, eyes going wide after he finished because he was sure he’d certainly not meant to say that. “It’s disgusting,” he continued after a second, aware that everyone was staring at him oddly, including Seamus-bloody-Finnigan and Harry-panting-much-too-heavily-Potter. His mouth continued without consent from his brain. “It’s detrimental to my mental health. I shouldn’t be forced to watch something so horrid for so long. Look, even Weasley agrees with me, don’t you Weasel?” Why couldn’t he shut up??

Ron raised an eyebrow at the blond. “S’better than watching _you_ and him,” he said, and Draco suddenly felt very much like punching his stupid face in. Or anyone’s face, really. Especially Hermione’s, because this was all her fault to begin with and she was _smirking_ at him now and she wasn’t allowed to do that because she didn’t _smirk_ in the first place. Pansy as well, who was looking positively giddy and Draco had no idea why.

“Well, go on then, it’s your turn isn’t it, Potter?” he finally asked after several minutes of uncomfortable silence. Harry sat up, finally, and Draco was relieved that he seemed to have his breathing back under control. His face was still flushed, though, and bloody Finnigan looked like he was bloody glowing. It pissed Draco off.

“Right,” Harry breathed, and Draco realized he was still indeed catching his breath. But then he called on that Thomas kid, and his turn was finally over and Draco finally began to relax, stomach unclenching, along with his fists, which he hadn’t known were clenched in the first place. His fingers felt stiff, and he gazed in confusion at the half-crescent marks his fingernails had left along his palms, Dean’s turn going unheard in the background.

* * *

When Draco’s turn finally rolled around, he was slightly surprised that it was the Finch-Fletchley kid who dared him to do it. Not that Draco believed for a second it was all his doing, or even his own idea.

In any case, he tried not to look nervous as he crawled his way over to Harry. But then he was scared he looked too confident and tried to relax, only to find he was then afraid he looked too eager. And underneath all of that, he was terrified someone would be able to tell they’d practiced.

Harry was blushing straight to the roots of his hair, even though they’d known it was coming. Draco supposed it was just the thought of doing it in front of everyone else. Or then it could be because the Weasel looked like he might have a heart attack at any moment. Draco fancied that he was really just jealous. After all, he _was_ amazing.

Then that reminded of him of the earlier episode with Finnigan, and he scowled.

He _would_ make Harry groan this time. Or squeak. Or thrash about wildly beneath him. Or all three. Hmmm…

“Let’s go, Malfoy, we don’t have all night,” he heard Justin say, and he wondered vaguely when Hufflepuffs had started to believe they could boss him around. Releasing a nervous breath, Draco wasted no time shoving Harry’s shaking hands out of the way and undoing his pants. He didn’t even look the other boy in the eye until he was holding his cock in his hand, and then he only smirked, in complete confidence, into Harry’s wide green eyes.

Harry swallowed nervously.

Draco’s smirk widened.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, and Draco completely cut him off by engulfing as much as he possibly could of Harry’s member into his mouth. He immediately sucked his way back up, and he was rewarded with the very gratifying sound of hearing Harry squeak as he inhaled, followed by a gasping breath. That hand went up to cover his mouth again as he collapsed against the wall behind him, legs spreading into a ‘V’ shape, and Draco’s hand immediately followed, snatching Harry’s hand away. Harry looked startled for half a second, but then lost himself in the feel of Draco’s tongue.

The result was a loud, guttural moan that had half the group gasping and the other half blushing. Draco grinned around Harry, and continued with his movements. Harry slid sideways, falling from an upright position against the wall to lie on his back on the floor. Then he arched up, and Draco’s eyes couldn’t leave his lithe figure as it continued to buck up into his mouth, groaning and gasping, hands completely forgotten as they instead entangled themselves into Draco’s hair. The blond gagged a few times, but got through it well enough, managing to swallow the whole of Harry’s essence when it shot into the back of his throat. He sat up, wiping at the bit that had dribbled down his chin, and stared at the disheveled boy below him, marveling that it had been _him_ who had reduced Harry to this state. Because Harry was still so completely out of it, Draco tucked him back into his pants and zipped him up, unable to withhold the smirk on his face.

“Oy, Potter,” he called, leaning forward and flicking the boy’s nose. Those green eyes opened, startled, and Harry blushed further.

“Erm…yes?” he replied weakly, still trying to catch his breath.

“Been quite a night for you, hasn’t it?”

Draco’s smirk widened and threatened to stretch into a grin as Harry groaned, still blushing, and covered his face with his hands.

Then, for some reason he couldn’t decipher, he turned his smirk on Seamus. Seamus grinned back, a calculating look in his eyes.

Draco didn’t take the time to figure out what that meant, because he rather enjoyed looking at Harry's embarrassed face instead.


	5. Chapter 5

When Harry finally became aware of where he was again, the first thing he noticed was the absolute silence of the room. Sudden feelings of mortification swept over him and he sat up awkwardly, trying to ignore Draco’s smirking face that was looming in front of him. Careful not to meet anyone’s eyes, he leaned back against the wall, shoving his hands into his lap and noticing for the first time that Draco had apparently zipped him up again. That only made the embarrassment worse.

“I kind of think Potter should reciprocate the dare,” Blaise Zabini spoke up, and Harry wanted to throttle him. Then he realized what exactly it was that he’d said, and waves of panic rushed over him.

“Boring,” Hermione said, casting a quick eye over Harry. “We’ve already seen it once tonight, no need to see it again.” There were murmurs around the group, but when everyone seemed to more or less agree, with the exception of Draco who didn’t seem to be able to hide his disappointment. Harry let out a breath, and gave Hermione a thankful look. She merely shrugged in response and Harry grinned.

They were done for another week.

* * *

The problem now, though, was that Harry knew people wanted him to return the dare. So he spent half of the week worrying about it and fretting about what he would do if it came up and how people would make fun of him because surely he would be horrible at it…

It wasn’t until Thursday that he was able to work up the confidence, but after dinner that night he waited patiently in the corridor outside the Great Hall, and when Draco sauntered out of the door, thankfully with none of his fellow Slytherins tagging along, Harry wasted no time darting forward to grab his sleeve before dragging him off to an empty classroom. The boy followed complacently enough, only pausing to sneer at Harry once the door was closed and securely locked.

“No need to manhandle me like that, Potter. If you wanted to talk, you only had to ask,” Draco smirked, crossing his arms and lifting his chin a bit. Despite himself, Harry cocked an eyebrow.

“Who said anything about talking?” he retorted, corner of his mouth lifting. “There are much better uses for your mouth, after all.” Draco frowned at the reminder of their previous dare, and narrowed his eyes at Harry.

“You can’t be serious,” he said, eying the boy skeptically. “Is that really why you pulled me into here?”

“Well…not exactly, per se,” Harry mumbled, feeling his cheeks burn a little. “It’s a bit the other way around, really.”

“Excuse me?” Draco blinked, and Harry sighed exasperatedly.

“Um, are you free tonight?” he asked. Draco nodded slowly, still looking suspicious. “Meet me in the Room of Requirement? At nine?”

“What’s in it for me?”

There was a pause before Harry answered in a mocking tone, “You cannot _possibly_ be that dense, Malfoy.” He actually managed a smirk after that, despite the flip-flopping his stomach was currently doing. He watched as awareness dawned in Draco’s eyes.

“Oh. Ooohhh,” Draco grinned nastily. “Are you serious, Potter?” Harry shrugged noncommittally. “Because if you aren’t, I don’t have to show up, you know.” Draco began examining his fingernails idly, waiting for an answer, but Harry’s eyes just narrowed.

“Going to suggest I ‘deep-throat inanimate objects’ instead?” he asked sarcastically. Draco glanced up at him.

“Yes, something like that,” he smirked. Harry shrugged again.

“Alright,” he said lightly, and headed for the door.

“Wha- wait!” Draco cried. Harry turned, eyebrows raised.

“Yes?” he asked innocently, but Draco was looking slightly startled, as if he hadn’t meant to call for him.

“I- but- oh, fuck off!” he growled when Harry began snickering.

“Nine o’clock, then?”

“Yes, fine, whatever.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

* * *

Harry got to the room early again, around 8:45. It was pretty much the same layout, except this time there was more of a Slytherin color twist to it. Much to his dismay, though, the bed was still looming in the back of the room. Harry sighed and plopped down onto the couch. He hadn’t brought any of his homework with him, too nervous to even attempt to do it. So instead he stared into the flames of the fire, knees bouncing up and down restlessly. He wondered how long he would have to wait for Draco this time-

The clock above the mantel had just hit 8:50 when the blond walked in. His appearance startled Harry, who’d actually been hoping he’d come late again.

“Potter,” Draco said in greeting, sinking down onto the opposite end of the couch. Both boys were in their pajamas this time, though Draco’s were still far nicer than Harry’s. Harry had opted for black sweatpants and an old t-shirt while Malfoy was once again dressed impeccably in his expensive ensemble.

“You’re early,” Harry stated blankly, still surprised and now more nervous.

“Am I?” Draco asked carelessly. “Imagine that. So, are we going to get started?” Harry thought Draco must have been having a hell of a time keeping his excitement masked, because it still showed through the bright eagerness of his eyes. He swallowed nervously.

“Yeah, ok,” he mumbled, and lowered himself to the floor. Draco wasted no time shucking his pants off, before leaning back onto the arm of the couch. He was clearly trying to suppress a grin. Harry frowned apprehensively. It was probably because of that Gryffindor tendency to plunge headfirst into things, but before Harry could even figure out how he was going to go about doing this, he had leaned forward and swallowed as much as he possibly could of Draco’s cock into his mouth. Draco gasped loudly and his hips thrust forward, sending Harry into an immediate coughing fit as he gagged.

“Oh, is that the best you can do?” Draco asked snidely. Harry glanced up at him, noting the spots of color high in his cheeks. “That was pathetic!” But he was still breathing heavily already. Harry’s lips pursed thoughtfully, and he figured he’d have to change that attitude right away. He crawled up onto the couch, pulling Draco’s legs with him so that the blond had to swing around to face him. “What are you doing?” he asked quickly. Harry didn’t answer, instead arranging Malfoy’s legs so that they were bent at the knee and he was kneeling in between them.

“Have you ever had a blowjob before?” Harry asked curiously, as he was getting himself comfortable. He heard Draco’s sharp intake of breath and looked up to meet his eyes.

“What the fuck business is that of yours?” he asked sharply. Harry nodded, hands reaching down to play with the hem of his shirt.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” he muttered in amusement.

“What? I didn’t even answer! And- and it’s not like _you’d_ ever had one before!”

“True,” Harry offered, still grinning a little.

“But that still doesn’t mean that I haven’t,” Draco insisted. “In fact, I-”

“Take off your shirt.”

“Potter, it is _not_ polite to interrupt people when they’re-… Excuse me?” Draco looked scandalized.

“Take off your shirt,” Harry repeated, staring intently at the blond.

“I- _NO_ ,” Draco said, sounding shocked. Harry’s hands twisted around the bottom of his own shirt and he lifted the material over his head, tossing it off to the side. Draco was staring wide-eyed at him, and Harry met his gaze and held it. He ran his hands lightly on the underside of Draco’s thighs, listening as his breathing increased. Smirking, Harry then trailed his fingers up the top of the Draco’s legs, down to his hips, and under his shirt. He could feel the muscles clenching under the soft skin of Draco’s stomach, and he didn’t have to look down to see how much this was affecting him.

Leaning forward until their lips were only a breath apart, Harry said softly, “Take. It. Off.” Their mouths just barely touched with every word and Draco nodded, still wide-eyed. Harry did it for him, though, lifting the shirt and pulling it off his head. Draco’s hair was in slight disarray when he was done, but he hadn’t seemed to notice. It made Harry want to run his hands through it and mess it up even more. He leaned down so that their chests were touching, slightly sweaty skin sliding together, and Draco’s breath hitched. Harry smirked and kissed the boy’s collar softly, before moving down to his nipple. He sucked lightly there, but used his tongue more, lapping around the darker skin. He bit down gently, and Draco’s whole chest jerked while he let out a shuddering breath.

“I bet I could make you come without even touching you down there,” Harry said smugly, though he was already reaching down and stroking Draco’s member slightly.

“Not…part of…the dare,” Draco panted, eyes squeezed shut.

“No it’s not,” Harry murmured, and he continued kissing down Draco’s body, dipping his tongue into the boy’s navel, before he finally reached his destination. Feeling much more confident now that he had reduced the Slytherin to a quivering pile of mush, he dragged his tongue along the underside of Draco’s cock before taking what he could into his mouth. He gave a few experimental bobs of his head, listening as Draco groaned loudly, before he attempted to swallow even more of him. He found that if he relaxed his throat and attempt to literally _swallow_ the boy, he could pretty much get all of him into his mouth. Once he accomplished this, causing Draco to let out a sobbing moan, he knew he had it down.

He tried using his hands as well, but it turned out he had to have one holding Draco’s hips in place so he wouldn’t be continually thrusting into his mouth. With his other hand he continued to stroke underneath the boy’s left thigh. Draco was breathing extremely harshly now, groaning with every other breath. His cheeks were pink and he had one arm thrown over his eyes while his other hand grabbed and twisted at the material of the couch. Harry felt it when the muscles in Draco’s thighs and stomach tightened, and he backed off immediately. He grinned when Draco let out a cry of dismay.

“What…what the fuck are you doing?!” he asked loudly. His eyes had a wild look to them.

“Have you ever had a blowjob before?” Harry asked in return, blinking when he heard his own voice. It was a little raspy, but he ignored it for the moment.

“I- what? You already asked me that!”

“You didn’t answer. Yes or no?” Harry smirked when Draco removed his arm to glare at him.

“That is _none_ of your bus-“

“ _Malfoy!_ ” Harry said sharply, and the blond let out a frustrated sound.

“No! No I haven’t. There, are you happy now? Will you finish it already?!” Harry grinned and bent so that he was resting on Draco’s chest, chin on top of his arms that were draped across the boy. He could feel Draco’s erection pressed against his stomach, and shifted purposely, listening as Draco gasped at the friction.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Hell if I know, you haven’t finished!”

“ _I’m_ good, aren’t I, Malfoy?”

“ _YES_ , damn you, would you hurry up?!” Harry raised an eyebrow, and Draco found it somewhere in himself to roll his eyes. “ _Please?_ ”

“Yeah, alright,” Harry replied cockily, and before Draco registered his reply, Harry was going down on him again and sucking back up. Draco jerked, thrusting into Harry’s mouth, and the boy let him, grinning around his cock. Harry took it slow from there, swallowing him whole each time and taking his time sucking back up. He felt hands twisting into his hair, and he glanced up at one point to see Draco’s head thrown back against the couch, neck exposed to the open air and Harry wanted nothing more than to suck on that hollow in his collar. But he thought Draco might kill him if he stopped again.

It wasn’t long before he felt Draco seizing up again, so he was slightly ready for it when the blond came into his mouth. He ended up gagging anyway, but managed to swallow it all, before he finally sat up and fell back against the couch. Draco was panting heavily beside him and hadn’t even tried to move.

“Potter,” he said eventually, still taking in long, deep breaths. “Where the _hell_ did you learn to do that?” Harry grinned, crossing his legs on the couch.

“From you mostly, I guess. You _are_ the only experience I have with it.” That was, at least, what Harry tried to say, but it came out so croaked and raspy that it was hard to make out.

“What the hell is wrong with your voice?” Malfoy asked, finally managing to pull himself into a sitting position.

“It’s from getting your whole _thing_ into my mouth,” Harry said hoarsely, though at least now it was understandable. “You try having something rubbing against the back of your throat for five minutes.” He cleared his throat again. “There, that’s better,” he said absently.

“My voice didn’t do that.”

“Well you just aren’t as talented as me,” was Harry’s reply. He grinned at Draco, who frowned in return and whipped a couch pillow that had fallen to the floor at him. “Oy! Temper, temper!” Harry laughed.

“Where the hell did my shirt get to?” Draco asked, ignoring Harry’s antics.

“No idea,” Harry boy replied.

“Well you’re the one who so forcibly wanted it off,” Draco groused. “What’d you do with it?” Harry looked around thoughtfully before blinking in remembrance. He smirked slightly to himself and then turned and practically draped himself across the other boy. Draco made an incredulous squeak as Harry continued leaning forward. He lifted his hands to push at Harry’s chest, but they ended up on the boy’s stomach, as his nipples were now at eye-level. So rather than pushing, his hands just rested on Harry’s hips, idly stroking the skin there, while he stared at the darkened nubs on the boy’s chest.

Harry had paused, glancing down at the hands on his skin, before he continued reaching behind the side of the couch to pick the shirt up off the ground. He was a bit preoccupied, so he didn’t notice when Draco’s head moved forward suddenly. Instead he just felt the wet warmth of a tongue experimentally licking his nipple, and the feeling was so unexpected and shocking that his whole body jerked and he toppled off to the side, barely missing the table as he collapsed to the ground.

“What-what was that for?” he asked incredulously. Draco peered over the edge of the couch at him and snatched his shirt from his hand so that he could pull it back on.

“So, um, I’m glad we practiced again,” Draco said, skirting around Harry’s question. Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, I bet you are,” he replied, laughing slightly. Draco paused in reaching for his pants, and glanced thoughtfully at Harry, who was still lying on his back on the ground. Slowly, he lowered himself to the floor, one leg thrown on each side of Harry as he straddled his stomach. Harry stared blankly at him.

“I could…return the favor, I suppose,” he offered, looking nervously off to the side.

“Really?” Harry blinked up at him. Draco shrugged.

“Well, I’ve done it before, and you _sort of_ reciprocated last time, so…” Draco trailed off, meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry blinked again, before grinning.

“Well alright then, I’m not going to argue if you’re _offering_.” Draco rolled his eyes, and slid down the length of the other boy’s body.

Harry spent the next day assuring Hermione that yes, he _had_ finished all his homework when he’d disappeared the night before, and telling Ron he had no idea why he was grinning like a loon.

* * *

Harry walked into the party the following Saturday feeling very confident about himself.

The feeling abruptly left once Pansy produced three bottles of firewhiskey and showed them to the circle.

“I thought we might take a break tonight and change things up a bit,” she said, smirking. “We’re going to play ‘I’ve Never.’ Does everyone know how it works?” There were a fair few who didn’t, so Pansy explained. It was easy enough. Everyone had a shot glass. One person said something they’d never done before, and everyone who had done it had to drink their shot. Harry began to feel his confidence returning. This was something he could handle, no sweat, and at least now he wouldn’t have to do anything with Draco! He ignored Draco’s annoyed look, probably over the fact that he wouldn’t be getting any blowjobs that night, and got ready to finally enjoy himself for once. This should be a piece of cake.

“I’ll start,” Pansy declared. “I’ve never masturbated in the Prefects’ bathroom.”

Oh. Well ok, so the questions would probably be embarrassing ones, but at least no one was just focused on him. Before he could think about whether he actually _had_ done anything in the Prefects’ bathroom or not, his hand was reaching for the shot glass in front of him, and he blinked. Ok…so maybe ‘I’ve Never’ was sort of like the truths in a Truth or Dare game; you had to be perfectly honest.

Harry downed his shot, along with every other male Prefect in the room, and immediately winced and tried to hold back his coughs as the liquid burned in his throat.

“Potter, you’re not even a Prefect!” he heard Draco exclaim, and turned to glare at him.

“Well neither is Zabini!” The black-haired Slytherin was sitting beside Draco, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as he finished his shot. Draco shrugged.

“Oh come off it, Malfoy,” Ron grumbled, also trying to get past the burning feeling the liquor had left. “Every Prefect in here has given at least one of their friends the password.”

“No one’s given me the password!” Seamus pouted playfully. Ron tried to stutter out an answer as all of his dorm mates eyes were suddenly staring intensely at him, and eventually Harry took pity on his friend.

“I’ll take you with me the next time I go, Seamus,” Harry offered, laughing a little at how flustered Ron was getting. He didn’t see Draco’s eyes narrowing on the other side of the circle.

“Ooohhh, Harry, is that a promise?” Seamus asked eagerly, eyes glinting mischievously.

“Sure,” Harry shrugged.

“It most certainly is not,” Draco cut in, “and if I ever see him in there, I’ll give you a detention, Potter!” Harry eyed the blond skeptically while Seamus burst out laughing.

“Awww,” Pansy cooed reaching over to pat Draco on the knee. “Wittle Dracy-poo is a wittle jealous that Harry’s gonna snog another boy!”

“Who said anything about snogging?!” Harry cried, startled, while Seamus just laughed even harder. Draco’s cheeks turned pink.

“Pansy, love,” he said gently, “would you fucking mind your own fucking business?!”

“Yes, dear, I’ll leave my _fucking_ business to myself and you to yours, ok?” Seamus was beginning to hyperventilate he was laughing so hard, and Hermione had joined him. Ron was laughing slightly, as if not sure to laugh at Draco’s expense or to be worried about what Pansy was implying. Harry’s brow furrowed, as he managed to finally catch was they were going on about.

“Excuse me, but there will be no _fucking_ of any kind,” he said, but then he caught sight of Draco’s furious expression, and decided to add more fuel to the fire. “At least not on Malfoy’s part. He’d be the one _getting_ fucked.” Draco spluttered indignantly, while most of the group fell into hysterics. The ones who weren’t laughing looked a bit nervous about the topic of conversation instead, like Neville.

“I would _not_ be the bottom is this relationship, Potter!” Draco finally managed to say through his clenched jaw.

“Ok, one, there _is_ no relationship, and two, you definitely would!” Harry grinned. He vaguely noticed out of the corner of his eye that Hermione and Pansy were looking at each other with a strange light in their eyes, and he immediately wondered what sort of repercussions this conversation would have and started to panic. Draco noticed it too, and he cursed lightly under his breath before refilling his shot glass.

“Are we going to play the game or not?” he asked, and everyone began settling down again.

“Oh, my turn, my turn!” Seamus exclaimed. “I’ve never thought that Malfoy would top in a relationship.” Giggles burst out again as only about half the group reached for their glasses. Harry figured, as he looked at his own but felt no urge to reach for it, that most people didn’t even think about that sort of the thing in the first place. Then he wondered when _he_ had. His eyes sought out Draco as the boy glared at his own shot, mumbling and cursing because clearly he was surprised he wasn’t reaching for it, and he snorted. Luckily, no one mentioned it.

Several rounds later, everyone was feeling decidedly tipsy. Ron’s turn was up, and the red-headed boy appeared to be trying to think really hard. “Um, I’ve…I’ve never…I’ve never had a blowjob, before,” he finally said, voice slightly slurred. Harry sighed and drank yet another shot, watching as Draco did the same, along with Seamus, Blaise Zabini, and a few other boys.

“Draco, when did _you_ get a blowjob?” Blaise asked curiously, once he’d finished his shot. The blond froze, glaring at Blaise.

“None of your business,” he replied, adding quickly, “Ok, who’s next?”

“No, seriously,” Blaise insisted, turning to face Draco fully. “You like to brag about stuff like this. I would have heard about it, and the last time I asked, you hadn’t had one yet!” Draco was blinking rapidly, obviously trying to come up with an answer. Harry fidgeted nervously where he was sitting.

“Blaise, it is _none_ of your business, maybe I was lying to you before-”

“You were not! Just tell me!” Draco’s eyes narrowed. “I can find out,” Blaise threatened.

“Oh really,” Draco sneered. Blaise quickly reached for his glass.

“I’ve never gotten a blowjob from Weasley,” he said mockingly, and not surprisingly no one drank, though Ron let out an indignant sound. Draco’s eyes widened and Harry felt his own face pale while his stomach flipped. “I can go through all of them. I’ve never gotten a blowjob from Terry, I’ve never gotten a blowjob from Finch-Fletchey-” Seamus giggled drunkenly and drank, while Justin went bright red.

“Blaise, _stop_ ,” Draco insisted, starting to panic. Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest as he clenched his glass.

“I’ve never gotten a blowjob from-from Dean Thomas, I’ve never gotten a blowjob from _Potter_ -” Harry’s eyes slid shut as he covered them with his hand for a second before lowering it to cover his mouth instead. He stared resignedly as Draco jerkily reached for his glass as if he were trying his hardest to _not_ reach for it, and a stunned silence fell on the group.

“Fuck. You. Blaise,” Draco said furiously, and tipped the shot back. Harry could feel his cheeks burning as several eyes turned to stare at him, Ron’s incredulous stare included. Pansy broke the silence by giggling.

“Are you serious?” she said in between laughs. Neither Harry nor Draco said anything. Harry was holding onto a spare thought that maybe everyone would be too drunk to remember this.

“Harry?” Ron asked. Seamus laughed and clapped Harry on the shoulder.

“Right on, mate. If I had no idea what I was doing, I’d make sure to do it ahead of time too,” he said, grinning easily. Harry felt his shoulders relax a little. Hermione nodded.

“So would I,” she agreed, and a murmur went around the group as people nodded. Harry and Draco exhaled slowly.

“I’m sorry, I just have to check,” Pansy said, still giggling a little. “I’ve never received more than one blowjob from Draco.” Harry blushed again, sighed, and lazily drank his shot. “Ooohhh, how many?” Pansy asked excitedly. Draco groaned and buried his head into his hands.

“No comment?” Harry feebly tried to answer. Pansy smirked.

“I’ve never-”

“Alright! Three,” Harry muttered.

“Three?” Hermione asked, and Harry felt a wave of mortification wash over him at the thought of discussing this with Hermione. “I can see two; the practice one and then the dare, but…” Harry bit his lip and gestured aimlessly with his hands.

“Um…I forced him to?”

“It was reciprocation for when he did it to me,” Draco said sharply, apparently overcoming his embarrassment.

“Ah.”

“Can we continue?” Harry asked desperately. His head was really starting to feel hazy.

“I don’t know, I think I’m done for the night,” Justin said, attempting to stand and stumbling a little as he did. Seamus made an agreeing sound and Justin pulled him to his feet. Hermione followed suit, Ron following her, and soon most of the group had stood up.

“Harry, you coming, mate?” Ron asked.

“No, I’ll be up in a bit,” Harry replied, wanting nothing more than to just sit alone for a while. Only he wasn’t alone, because Pansy, Draco, Blaise, and Terry had made no move to get up. Terry filled up the glasses.

“Last one,” he decided, glancing curiously at the small group left. “Just out of curiosity, I’ve never had sex.” Blaise was the only one of the group to drink, while Draco and Harry just glared at the boy. He shrugged. “Alright then. Good night, all!” The remaining four sat silently until Pansy stood, pulling Blaise with her.

“Well I’m beat. Night, Draco, Potter.” The two boys were left in the darkened room.

“Well that’s not exactly how I would have told anyone,” Harry finally said softly. Draco snorted and reached for the remaining bottle of firewhiskey.

“I wouldn’t have told anyone at all,” he said, drinking straight from the bottle. He offered it to Harry, who took it gladly. He coughed a little after gulping some down, wiping his mouth as he handed it back to Draco. The blond eyed what was left. “A bit less than half,” he murmured. “Want to go shot for shot?” Harry doubted he’d be anywhere near coherent if they did that, but he shrugged anyway.

“Yeah, alright.” They drank silently for the most part, each trying to keep up with the other. Their knees were touching they were sitting so close to one another, and each time one of them reached for the bottle, somehow the other would too and their fingers would end up brushing against each other. It seemed very surreal to Harry, who now couldn’t turn his head without the whole room blurring and spinning slightly. The room was dark save for the moonlight pouring in through the window, and the only sound was the deep breathing of both boys. Harry felt a hand on his knee, though Draco didn’t seem to realize that was where it had landed, and he glanced up at the blond, meeting eyes that seemed to be glowing in the darkness. “Hey, Malfoy?”

“What?”

“Have…have you ever wanted to kiss me outside of a Saturday game?” The words felt thick on his tongue and he had a hell of a time trying to get them out, but Draco seemed to understand anyway. Harry noticed the flushed look his face had taken on due to the alcohol.

“…No,” Draco answered eventually. “Have you?” Harry shook his head and immediately regretted it as his stomach twisted. He downed his last shot, and watched as Draco drank his. Watched those lips part slightly around the glass, saw his throat working to swallow the burning liquid, admired that pale skin of his neck against the dark shirt…

“Not…not before right now, anyway,” Harry mumbled. Draco glanced at him sharply, but then winced as the movement seemed to affect him as it did Harry.

“You want to kiss me?” he slurred out incredulously. Harry nodded without meaning to.

“Your throat…I want to kiss your throat again,” he said, stumbling over the words. Draco blinked.

“What are you? A…a…um…what’s it-what are they called?” Draco asked, eyes narrowing. His head tipped to the side thoughtfully and Harry noticed his whole posture was slumped forward.

“A vampire?”

“Yes!”

“I’m not a vampire, Maaalfoooy,” Harry giggled. “I just like your throat.” Draco grinned as well, leaning towards the other boy.

“Well have at it, then,” he offered drunkenly. Harry smiled widely and practically climbed into the other boy’s lap. Before he could clearly realize what he was doing, his mouth was at the other’s throat, licking and sucking and surely leaving marks again as he worked his way around the skin. Draco’s breath hitched and he moaned lightly, hands falling back against the floor for support. Harry moved up his throat, kissing his jaw and then his chin. Then he pulled back a centimeter, staring into Draco’s eyes, lips nearly touching.

It lasted maybe a few seconds, but in their drunken haze it seemed to go on for hours, before Draco finally closed the distance and planted his mouth gently on Harry’s. It was the first time he’d initiated a kiss, and Harry’s eyes widened. He pulled back just a bit, staring into the other boy’s eyes. Draco slowly reached up and removed Harry’s glasses, and suddenly Draco’s eyes became even clearer at so close a distance. Harry lunged forward again, meeting Draco passionately and both boys opened their mouths immediately. Their tongues sought out each other and intertwined in their familiar dance, sweeping deep in each other’s mouths.

Draco’s arms gave out at some point and he was lying on his back on the floor, one leg hooked around the back of Harry’s knees as Harry leaned over him. Both boys moaned into the kiss, causing wonderful vibrations to resonate straight down to their groins. Draco broke off eventually, head falling back against the floor and breathing heavily. Harry was panting as well, and he buried his face in Draco’s neck. He mumbled something vaguely, but neither could register what it was.

Harry toppled off to the side, head still in the crook of Draco’s neck, while Draco’s eyelids shut. Eventually their breathing leveled out and neither moved again until morning, their alcohol muddled-minds finally giving into sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Pansy sauntered into the Slytherin common room the next morning, still attempting to tie her hair up into a ponytail, and Blaise descended on her immediately in a rush of black robes.

“Have you seen Draco?” he asked quickly. The black-haired girl quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Blaise, darling, I only just got up. Or did you _not_ notice me walking down from the girls’ dormitories?” she returned, smiling slightly. Blaise ran a hand through his ebony hair.

“I thought maybe you’d been down here earlier or something,” he said, exhaling slowly and glancing away.

“Is something the matter? Have you checked his bed?” Blaise shot the girl a disgruntled look.

“Of course I did, what do you take me for?” he huffed. “I haven’t seen him all morning.”

“What about Vincent and Greg?” Pansy asked, walking further into the common room as if to look around for the missing blond. “Would they know?”

“Doubtful. Pansy…his bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in,” Blaise said hesitantly. The girl’s eyes shot towards his.

“Well, he makes it every morning, doesn’t he?”

“Well yes…but it’s just that…I mean, didn’t we leave him with Potter last night?”

“Oh please,” Pansy chuckled, “don’t tell me you think _Potter_ has done something to him!” Blaise paused and frowned.

“‘ _Something_ ’ is a very vague word…” he murmured, and then Pansy finally seemed to catch on, which was odd considering her latest endeavors in pairing the two boys together. Blaise thought she must still be tired or something.

“Oh. Ooohh,” Pansy smirked and began to straighten the pillows on the couches. “Just as unlikely,” she said, handing Blaise a spare Transfigurations book that had been tucked in between the cushions as he trailed after her. “I mean, they’re hardly going to do anything on their own. They’re both hopeless.”

“But they were also drunk,” Blaise countered, watching as the Slytherin Prefect kneeled on the floor and looked under the couches. “In fact, we left them with nearly half a bottle of firewhiskey!” Pansy pulled out a dusty Potions manual and tossed it to Blaise, grimacing. Then she paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face as she wiped her hands off.

“Good point,” she finally said, and laughed shortly. “I’d forgotten! Maybe that’ll give them a push in the right direction.” Blaise frowned again, and put the texts he’d been given down on a nearby table.

“Pansy, what exactly are you trying to accomplish with those two?” he asked. “Nothing good can come of it; Draco’s father is the Dark Lord’s right-hand man!” Pansy quickly shushed the boy, glancing around at the younger students milling about the common room, before pulling him down onto the nearby couch.

“Blaise, I’m going to ask you what may seem to be a very personal question, but I want you to answer me honestly, ok?” At his nod, she continued, “How do you feel about muggleborns?”

“Well I- what? Muggleborns? What has that got to do with anything?” Blaise asked, confused.

“Just answer.”

“Um, alright… Well, I guess…I mean- well I really don’t give them much thought at all!” Pansy rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“You are aware that practically the whole Light and Dark issue is about them?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes!” Blaise exclaimed, a bit affronted. “It’s just…well they don’t bother me much. I couldn’t even tell you the names of all the students that _are_ muggleborn. Aside from like…Granger, or something.” Pansy sighed agitatedly.

“And do you want to kill Granger?”

“What- No!”

“Justin Finch-Fletchey? Dean Thomas?”

“NO! Why are you even asking?”

“Because if you follow the Dark Lord, that’s what you’ll have to do,” Pansy said seriously, her eyes hard and cold. “One day you’ll find yourself staring into a classmate’s eyes and you’ll have to raise your wand, say the words, and watch them die and know that _you_ did it.”

“I…I know that, Pansy-“

“No, I don’t think you do!” Pansy exclaimed, causing Blaise to jump slightly. “I don’t think anyone here knows that! Oh, sure, everyone knows that they _hate mudbloods_ because they don’t _belong_ here and that they want to join the great and mighty _Lord Voldemort_ to carry out his noble cause! It’s all very black-and-white, isn’t it? I don’t think anyone actually realizes who they’d be killing, or that they’d be the ones _doing_ it! It all seems very nice, maybe, but no one recognizes the fact that it’s their _classmates_ they’ll be fighting! School rivalries and _battles_ are very different things!” Pansy’s chest was heaving when she finished, her eyes bright. Blaise could only stare at her for a few seconds before something dawned in his mind.

“Pansy,” he breathed, eyes wide, “are you on _Dumbledore’s_ side?”

“Oh of course not,” the girl replied, standing and whirling away from the couch. “I’m not on anyone’s side; I see no need to involve myself in this mess.”

“You know that’s not possible, you’ll have to choose eventually.”

“And when that time comes I’ll choose the side that best benefits me.” There was a slight pause where the only sound was Pansy’s foot tapping quickly against the floor, before she spun around again to face Blaise. “Alright, yes, I’m on Dumbledore and Potter’s side!” she exploded. “I think killing muggleborns is pointless and stupid! No one in our year knows more than Granger does! Honestly, I think the Dark Lord’s just jealous.”

“But your father-”

“Yes, yes, daddy’s a Death Eater, and look how far it’s gotten him! I haven’t seen him since winter break last year, and he’s been in hiding for months. It’s ruining his life!”

“Right,” Blaise mumbled, brow furrowed. “But…what’s this got to do with Draco and Potter?”

“Oh, Draco’s not had a political thought of his own since he was two. The only thing he knows is what’s been drummed into his head year after year by his father. And quite frankly, Draco and his father are two _very_ different people,” Pansy said, sitting down on the couch again and resting her chin on his fist. “Can you see him trying to kill someone? Or _torture_ someone? The sight of blood makes him sick,” she continued, smiling fondly. “I figured he needed someone to knock some sense into him, and who better than Potter?”

“Granger, maybe? A _girl?_ ”

“Ha, right,” Pansy laughed. “Besides, I needed someone close to Potter who sees what I see happening between those two to help me out. They have a certain chemistry, you know? When they’re in the same room, they practically only have eyes for each other, don’t you think?” Blaise grunted and shrugged. “Besides, Draco’s not really been himself this year, and Potter’s almost the only one who can get a reaction out of him. And weren’t you the one who started guessing all boys last night with the blowjob thing?”

“I was trying to scare him into telling me who it was,” Blaise admitted. “Didn’t think I’d actually hit the right person.”

“Speaking of,” Pansy said, standing once more and brushing down her robes, “we’d better go find them before a teacher does.” Blaise nodded quickly in agreement, and the two walked quickly out of their common room.

* * *

“Harry! Harry, wake up already!” Ron flung open the curtains of his best friend’s bed, freezing immediately when he saw there was no one there. “Harry?” The red-headed boy glanced around the room, eyes landing on each of his dorm mates who were at various stages of getting ready for the day. “Did anyone see Harry get up this morning?” he asked curiously.

“Never even heard him come in last night,” Dean commented, pulling on his socks.

“What would you know, you were sleeping,” Seamus said, shoving his friend playfully. “He probably already went down to breakfast to avoid all your questions,” he answered Ron more seriously. Neville nodded in agreement.

“But Harry hates getting up early,” Ron said, sitting down on his bed.

“Ah, but he hates receiving unwanted attention more,” Seamus stated.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Ron mumbled, but his red ears gave him away.

“Sure you weren’t,” Seamus chuckled, before saying in all seriousness, “Look, mate, just leave the Malfoy thing alone, alright? Harry didn’t do anything wrong.” Ron grimaced, his nose wrinkling.

“Ew, Malfoy,” he muttered. “I wasn’t going to ask! Really! …Though he could have told me, I’m his best friend!”

“Oh, right, because that would have gone over really well,” Dean said. “‘Hey, Ron, I need to learn how to give Malfoy a blowjob before next Saturday, any advice? Brilliant! Thanks, mate, have a hug?’ I’m sure you would have responded quite well.” Neville and Seamus laughed while Ron pursed his lips.

“I wouldn’t have- he could have- well…he might of…oh, I don’t know!” Ron finally exclaimed, stomping off towards the door. “Maybe Hermione’s seen him.” All four boys trudged down the stairs, arriving in the common room just in time to see Hermione coming in through the portrait. “Oy, Hermione, did you see Harry at breakfast?” Ron asked quickly.

“No, I haven’t seen him all morning,” the girl replied. “Wasn’t he in your room?” This brought the four Gryffindor boys to a halt.

“He wouldn’t…do you think…?” Ron stuttered, eyes going wide. Seamus started chuckling again.

“Maybe he’s still with Malfoy,” he said deliberately, knowing that everyone was already thinking it.

“No,” Ron shook his head, “no, that’d be stupid. Why would he be with that ferret, he said he’d be following us up in a few minutes!” Hermione laid a hand on his arm, and he quieted immediately.

“Maybe we should go check,” she said softly.

“Check what?!” Ron cried. “There’s nothing to check, he’s just…just…out visiting Hagrid or something!”

“Ron, get over it,” Seamus said, clapping a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We’re going to go down to that classroom, open the door, and find them cuddled on the floor together, clothes probably strewn about the room. And you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

“Seamus!” Hermione snapped as Ron’s face went pale. Seamus grinned innocently. “Come on,” Hermione sighed. “Let’s go find him.”

* * *

“Peeves is banging around one of the classrooms again, he says,” Professor Snape muttered to himself as his stormed down the hallway. At every door he came to he paused and swung it open with a quick wave of his wand. “Severus, why don’t you help Argus find him, he says. Conniving old man, he just loves showing that he has power over me.” Snape flung open another door and was so caught up in his angry mutterings he almost continued on down the hall, but he quickly did a double take and froze.

Harry had been having a very pleasant dream about chocolate syrup and a smooth, pale-skinned torso when he was quite rudely awakened by a loud voice screaming his name.

“POTTER!” Snape shouted. Harry immediately rolled over and sat up before he felt the entire room lurch around him.

“Gah,” was the only thing he managed to say before the dizziness took hold and he collapsed forward onto…onto…another body? Harry wearily opened his eyes and found himself staring blurrily into Draco Malfoy’s face. The other boy was already blinking back up at him. “What…what…what-”

“Potter, get up _immediately_ and _EXPLAIN YOURSELF!_ ” Snape interrupted furiously. Both boys nervously turned to look at their professor, before Draco quickly sat up, shoving Harry off to the side.

“P-Professor!” he said, hand going up to rub his temple. “I…Potter…he…it’s not what it looks like!” he exclaimed, wincing as soon as the words left his mouth.

“What it _looks_ like,” Snape said slowly, “is that you two were out past curfew and apparently indulging illegally in alcoholic beverages. That in itself is breaking a fair few school rules, and I haven’t even begun to question why you two are _together_.” He eyed the two expectantly, arms crossing.

“Er,” Harry said eloquently, eyes darting to meet Draco’s quickly before returning to his furious professor. “Well…it’s not against the rules to…to hang around with students from other houses…”

“Mr. Potter, what exactly do you take me for?” Snape asked, still speaking in that slow, even tone that indicated he was mere seconds from exploding. Harry swallowed nervously, feeling his stomach twist again. “If you expect me to believe that you and Mr. Malfoy decided to reconcile and become _friends_ ,” he spat the word out, “in the two days since I have last seen you in my class, you are sorely mistaken and much more idiotic that I’ve thought you to be all these years.” Draco impersonated a fish for a few seconds, before apparently giving up on trying to think of something to say. One of his hands was clenched around the material of the shirt covering his stomach. “Well?” Snape said sharply.

“Professor,” Draco said quietly, hand going up to cover his mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.” Harry nodded in agreement, and swiftly felt a pounding ache start in his temple. Snape’s eyes narrowed and he sighed in agitation.

“Such are the repercussions of _drinking_ ,” he said snidely. Draco stared at him wide-eyed, looking shocked that he was not going to help. Snape looked thoughtful for a few seconds, before sighing again. “I won’t tell your Head of House about this, Potter,” he grumbled out, looking annoyed that his not punishing Draco technically meant he couldn’t punish Harry either. “But I’ll take twenty points from Gryffindor…and Slytherin, each. And another ten from Gryffindor, because I’m sure this was somehow your fault.” He glared pointedly at Harry. “That and not giving you my hangover potion should be punishment enough. Don’t let me catch you again! Drinking or doing…anything _else_.” With one final glare, Snape was stalking off down the hall, cloak billowing out behind him. The boys could hear the echo of more doors being banged open as he continued his search for Peeves.

“I think he was too baffled at seeing us together to do anything,” Harry murmured, unconsciously leaning against Draco’s shoulder. He squinted around the room, realizing for the first time that he didn’t have his glasses on.

“He was probably too relieved that we managed to keep our clothes on to give us detentions,” Draco groaned out, still clutching at his stomach.

“Take deep breaths, I think it helps,” Harry suggested off-handedly, peering at the blond. “Why would our clothes be off?” Draco shot him an incredulous look and Harry felt his cheeks flush slightly. “Oh, right.” He continued looking around the abandoned classroom, vaguely trying to spot his glasses and willing his headache to go away. Another moan from Draco dragged his attention back to the boy. “Geez, Malfoy, you wimp. Concentrate on something else and _breathe_ for Merlin’s sake.”

“Bugger off,” Draco croaked, looking absolutely miserable. His hair was plastered to his forehead and his skin looked clammy, but at least he was beginning to take deeper breaths and calm down. Harry continued to stare at him until something on his neck caught his attention, and then foggy wisps of a memory began to drift through his mind.

“Oh, bloody hell!” he cursed as his stomach flipped again.

“What?” Draco asked immediately, whipping around to face Harry and causing the boy to lose his balance and topple forward. He caught himself before he could fall onto the blond, but now he was staring straight at Draco’s collar and the red blotches there were clearly visible.

“I hope you still have some turtlenecks left,” Harry said weakly. Draco stared at him curiously for a few seconds, though Harry could tell right away when he remembered what had happened due to the way his eyes widened.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he exclaimed, hand clamping around the front of his neck. “What the bleeding hell _is_ it with you and my _neck_ , Potter?!”

“You offered it to me!”

“Well you said you wanted to _kiss_ it again!”

“I…well…I mean, there was the firewhiskey and-and I really didn’t know what I was doing…” Harry trailed off helplessly. “You _liked_ it, though, don’t deny it,” he accused. Draco went pink, hand still rubbing his neck.

“I can’t go back to the common room like this,” he muttered. He eyed Harry critically for a minute, lips pursing. “Alright, give me your shirt.”

“Excuse me?” Harry said incredulously, blinking.

“Give it to me, Potter! Come on, we haven’t got all day.”

“Malfoy-”

“You shirt hides more, come on! Hurry it up.”

“But…it’s a sweatshirt.”

“Yes, I _know_ , and it’s got a hood. It’ll hide my neck, so take it off!” Harry finally sighed and acquiesced, tugging his sweatshirt off over his head. Draco nodded and did likewise, tossing Harry his black shirt and eyeing the red material in his hands distastefully.

Of course, it would be at this exact moment that Pansy and Blaise showed up in the doorway.

There was an awkward pause as Harry and Draco had not heard their footsteps coming, and they both donned the typical deer-in-headlights expression one gets in this type of situation.

“There, see!” Blaise broke the silence, gesturing in exasperation at the two shirtless boys. “I knew something bad must have happened.”

“Yes, I _do_ see,” Pansy giggled, hands rising to hide her grin. This spurred the guilty parties into action and they both jumped to their feet, stumbling as the room around them tipped. They fell against each other to catch their balance, and then began shouting in unison.

“No, Blaise, you’re completely wrong-”

“Absolutely nothing happened-”

“We only passed out because of the firewhiskey-”

“And there’s a perfectly legitimate reason for our shirts to be off!” There was a slight pause after Harry’s last exclamation, while Pansy stared expectantly at them.

“Well, let’s hear it, then,” she said, raising an eyebrow. Draco glowered and smacked Harry on the shoulder while the boy attempted to think up an answer.

“Pansy, Blaise, what’s all the yelling about?” came Hermione’s voice from out in the hall, and Harry groaned.

“Shit,” he hissed, fumbling with Draco’s shirt as he tried to pull it over his head.

“We came looking for Draco,” Pansy answered, stepping to the side. The crowd of Gryffindors came into view.

“Well we’re looking for Harry,” Ron said, peering into the room. “Is he-” Again, there was a sudden silence. Harry was still attempting to pull the shirt on, so he could only imagine the picture they made. He was leaning back against Draco for the most part, as the Slytherin was standing slightly behind him, and he could feel Draco’s hands using his still unclothed shoulder and hip as an anchor to keep his balance. Harry meekly poked his head through the top of the shirt and stepped forward, dislodging himself from Malfoy.

“H-hey, Ron,” he greeted, weakly attempting a grin. He ignored Seamus’ snicker.

“Hi,” Ron replied slowly. There was another pause, and then Draco shoved past Harry on his way to the door, roughly pulling the sweatshirt on as he went.

“Pansy, I think I’m going to throw up any second now, I require medical attention immediately,” he growled, hauling the girl down the hall. Blaise glanced around at the quiet Gryffindors and grinned.

“Well, have a nice day,” he said, and then left to follow his fellow Slytherins.

* * *

“Harry, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know, but there’s nothing to tell.”

“No, really, you can tell me _absolutely anything_. I won’t mind. I won’t explode, I won’t even _question_ it.”

“Ron, I appreciate it, but I’m serious, there’s nothing to say!”

“Harry…”

“What?”

“…You stayed there all night.”

“I passed out.”

“You were shirtless when we showed up.”

“I was putting _on_ my shirt, actually.”

“Harry…”

“ _What?_ ”

“That’s not your shirt.”

“…”

“And that still doesn’t explain why you were shirtless in the first place.”

“…”

“Harry?”

“I don’t like him, ok?!”

“I never said you did!”

“Well you’re implying it!”

“I’m just wondering how you two ended up shirtless!”

“We…we were-“

“They were playing cards, right, mate?”

Harry and Ron whipped around to stare at Seamus as the Irish boy joined them on the couches in the common room. “Cards?” Ron asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I found these under one of the desks after you all left,” Seamus said, tossing a deck of cards onto Harry’s lap. Harry’s jaw dropped slightly.

“Yeah,” Harry said slowly, lips quirking into a grin when Seamus winked at him. “Yeah, we were…we decided to play strip poker. I don’t know why, we were already completely smashed at that point. I guess we passed out before it could get too far.”

“Well thank Merlin for small miracles,” Ron muttered, turning to face the fire. “I was getting worried. Not that I mind, of course!” he said quickly when Seamus cocked an eyebrow at him. “I just…I just wish you’d tell me, is all. If anything happens…”

“Ron, I promise you’ll be the first to know,” Harry grinned, rolling his eyes.

“Aside from Malfoy,” Seamus snickered.

“Aside from Malfoy,” Harry agreed, laughing. Ron just groaned.

“Did it have to be him?” he groused. “Why couldn’t they have dared you to…to do something with _Seamus?_ ” The redhead thrust his arm in Seamus’ general direction.

“They did,” the Irish boy replied, grinning at Harry. “Didn’t they, Harry?” Harry blushed at the memory, but nodded.

“They sure did,” he said.

“Speaking of, Harry, I’ve been wondering… Am I a better kisser than Malfoy?” Seamus raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“What?” Harry asked, a little surprised. “I have no idea!”

“Well, you’ve kissed us both. Come on, tell me!” Seamus pleaded, a little over exuberantly.

“Um…well, I’ve kissed Malfoy more,” Harry said slowly. “And he’s quite talented. Isn’t he, Ron?” Harry grinned teasingly while Ron blanched and then immediately blushed.

“He’s…it wasn’t…I mean…it wasn’t _too_ horrible, I guess,” he mumbled.

“I’ll have to kiss him sometime,” Seamus idly commented, stretching his legs out on the couch.

“What? Why?” Harry asked sharply, eyes narrowing at his dorm mate. Seamus raised an eyebrow.

“So I can see just how ‘good’ he is,” he replied. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“I-what?” Harry blinked, startled. “No…of course not. Do what you want.”

“Then I will,” Seamus grinned. Harry’s brow furrowed, and he continued staring into the dwindling flames.

* * *

After dinner on Wednesday, as Harry was trailing behind his fellow Gryffindors on their way back to the common room, he was abruptly yanked into the abandoned classroom which was really starting to become quite familiar. Sighing, he shook Draco’s hand off his arm and turned to face him as he carefully shut and locked the door.

“If you’re going to suggest practicing something else, I’m really going to have to disagree because I don’t know what else there is that we can do,” Harry commented, crossing his arms and leaning against one of the desks. Malfoy blinked, startled, and apparently lost his train of thought.

“What- Are you serious? There’s only about a million more things we could do,” Draco said, as if it were obvious. Harry paled slightly.

“Well, yeah, I know there are but I don’t actually want to _do_ any of them!” he exclaimed.

“Neither do I!” Malfoy yelled quickly. “That’s not- Wait. Shut up, Potter, that’s not even why I dragged you in here.”

“It’s not?” Harry let out a breath in relief. “Oh good.” Malfoy frowned and mirrored Harry’s stance, leaning against a desk opposite him.

“No, I just want to…discuss something with you.” Draco’s eyes narrowed slightly and he pursed his lips. “I just realized something,” he said slowly. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Oh God, you’re not coming out to me, are you?” he asked worriedly. Draco’s eyes shot open.

“NO!” he exclaimed. “That’s not- I didn’t even- Why would you think that?!”

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Harry breathed, ignoring Malfoy’s stricken face.

“Does everyone think that?” Draco asked slowly.

“Think what?”

“That I’m…that I’m gay.”

“Oh.” Harry looked thoughtful for a second. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“Well that’s what I was going to ask you.”

“You were going to ask if I thought you were gay?”

“No!” Draco sighed in exasperation. “No, I just realized who Blaise was guessing on Saturday.”

“Guessing for what?” Harry asked, confused.

“When he was trying to figure out who gave me a blowjob.” Draco’s eyes narrowed again. “He named _boys_. Why didn’t he mention any girls?” Harry blinked as if he’d only just noticed that as well.

“Oh,” he said helpfully. “Well…he _did_ say he was going to go through everyone. Maybe he was giving you time to admit who it was?”

“Maybe,” Draco sighed, pushing himself back to sit on the desk. “Potter…I think people are beginning to think we’re… _together_ or something.” Harry paled even further this time.

“Together? As in… _together_ together?” he asked nervously. When Malfoy nodded, he groaned. “Bloody hell, I think you’re right. Ron’s been bugging me about it recently.”

“If even the Weasel’s picked up on it, it must be all over school by now,” Draco grumbled. “I don’t even like you, much less like _that_.”

“Well the feeling’s mutual,” Harry attempted to sneer. Draco scowled, eyes flicking towards Harry’s briefly before turning away again. “Are we done here?” he asked harshly, feeling unexplainably angry all of a sudden.

“What, you need my permission to leave?” Malfoy asked, eyes narrowing.

“No, I just wanted to make sure there was nothing else you wanted to blather on about.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was I taking up too much of the precious boy-who-lived’s time?” the blond asked sarcastically.

“Shut up, Malfoy!” Harry said sharply.

“Sorry, I have nothing else to say to you. Wouldn’t want to waste even more of your time.”

“Fine! I’ll just go, then!”

“Fine, then go!”

“Fine!” Harry and Draco scowled at each other, before Harry turned and stomped out of the room, vaguely wondering what the hell they had just fought about.

* * *

Saturday brought with it two very reluctant boys. Harry, for one, was worried out of his mind about what would happen. He had no idea if they were going to play a different game, he didn’t know what else he and Malfoy could be made to do in public…though, with this group he couldn’t be sure there was anything they _wouldn’t_ be made to do.

Malfoy looked just as nervous as he felt, sitting stiffly on his side of the circle. That didn’t make Harry feel any better.

It also didn’t make him feel any better when Pansy’s first hit of the night was at him.

“Alright, so we’re playing Truth or Dare again tonight,” she said, shutting the classroom door behind her after making sure no one had seen them come in. Apparently Draco had warned her about Snape. “I’ll start. Potter!” Harry’s eyes squeezed shut and he fought to keep the look of despair from showing on his face. “Truth or dare?” Harry took a deep breath, chancing a glance across the circle. Draco was staring at him silently, and Harry blinked.

“Dare,” he breathed, quietly, still holding Malfoy’s gaze. “I pick dare.” He turned to Pansy just in time to catch her smirk, and he swallowed nervously.

“Alright,” Pansy said, still smirking. “I dare you to…cuddle. With Draco.” Harry blinked. “For the rest of the night. Until we’re done, that is.”

“…What?” Harry asked blankly. “Cuddle?” His eyes shot towards Draco, and he found that the blond looked as startled as he felt.

“Yes, cuddle,” Pansy answered, grinning. “Here, I’ll help. Scoot back against the wall. Draco, come here.” Harry did as told, and Draco reluctantly dragged himself to his feet and crossed the circle. “Ok, sit again. Potter, spread ‘em.”

“Spread what?” Harry asked.

“Your legs, genius,” Draco muttered, and Harry felt his cheeks flush.

“Oh,” he murmured, slowly doing as told.

“Ok, Draco, sit the same direction he is and lean your back against his chest.” Pansy looked positively gleeful as she instructed them, while Draco slowly did as told, looking as if he was being led to his death. Harry blushed further when the Slytherin rested tensely against him. “Potter, wrap you arms around his waist.”

“What?” Harry asked quickly. Pansy glared at him and he sighed, slowly moving his arms to enclose Draco. He thought this might have actually been somewhat comfortable if either of them could relax at all.

“There,” Pansy beamed at them. “Now just stay like that.”

“Stay like this?” Malfoy repeated.

“Yes. For the whole game.”

“For the whole game…” Harry muttered to the back of Draco’s neck, and he felt the blond shudder slightly. Harry couldn’t concentrate on the game after that. It continued on around him, but he couldn’t be bothered to listen. All he could feel was Draco squeezed in gently between his thighs, and he was hoping the blond wouldn’t be able to feel how quickly his heart was beating against his back. But with the way the Slytherin was gradually letting the tension in his muscles go and relaxing against the broad chest behind him, Harry was pretty sure he would notice it.

Draco, for his part, thought he was about to go insane. He was completely ignoring the game as well, but that was because all he could feel was the stupid Gryffindor behind him breathing down his neck. Every time Harry’s chest gently swelled, Draco would know that hot air would be brushing across his neck in the next second, and it was driving him mad. He hadn’t known the skin around there was so sensitive until Harry had taken it upon himself to make it his favorite part of his body. Draco shifted slightly, trying to move his neck out of the way, and instead he felt Harry’s breath hitch slightly. One of the hands resting on his stomach twitched, and in turn caused the muscles in Draco’s abdomen to jump under it.

Harry had to hold his breath as the blond squirmed against him. The movement was doing nothing to help his sixteen-year-old body behave itself, and he was afraid that if he tried to breathe it would come out as a groan. When Draco’s stomach convulsed slightly under his hand, he paused, unable to stop the grin spreading across his lips. He vaguely caught sight of the pained expression Ron was giving him, but ignored it, instead pulling Draco closer to himself and resting his chin on the Slytherin’s shoulder. Draco had stilled beneath him and tensed up again, but Harry stroked lightly against his stomach and he let out a shuddering breath. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see the boy’s pale skin pinking.

“What do you think you’re doing, Potter?” Draco hissed through clenched teeth when the Gryffindor slipped one hand beneath his shirt and began caressing the smooth skin he found there.

“I don’t know,” Harry whispered in return, turning his head to place a light kiss on Malfoy’s neck.

“No, stop it! Today’s the first day I haven’t worn a turtleneck in a week, I won’t have you marking me again!” he spat quietly, attempting to twist out of the way while at the same time making sure they didn’t catch anyone’s attention. With his movement, his hips swiveled around and pressed back into Harry’s groin, making the boy gasp as his arms unintentionally tightened around the blond. Draco paused immediately. “Well, well, well,” he snickered quietly. “What have we here?” He shifted purposely against Harry’s hardening cock again, and the boy’s eyes squeezed shut as he tried not to thrust back.

Harry managed to open his eyes when Draco stilled abruptly and he heard footsteps walking towards him.

“Seamus,” he said, slightly surprised when the Irish boy kneeled down in front of them.

“Justin dared me to snog Malfoy,” the boy grinned mischievously. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear him.”

“What?!” Harry and Draco exclaimed simultaneously.

“Yep,” Seamus said, leaning forward slightly. Draco reared back, nearly squashing Harry against the wall, and the boy had to bite back a gasp at the sudden pressure on his groin.

“Why?” Draco asked stupidly, eyes wide. Seamus shrugged.

“You’d have to ask him,” he said, before lunging forward to catch Malfoy’s mouth with his own. The blond made a muffled sound of protest, but Harry knew he would succumb eventually. Seamus was a _very_ good kisser, though Harry hadn’t actually told him this when he’d asked. Sure enough, Draco’s eyes began to slide shut, as if against his will, and he went boneless against Harry. Harry, for his part, thought he was doing remarkably well at just sitting there _watching_ the two of them as their lips melded together, tongues sliding in and out of one another’s mouths as Malfoy relaxed and Seamus made the kiss deeper and more intense. He didn’t really notice his arms tensing and tightening further until Draco ripped his mouth away from Seamus’ and coughed slightly.

“Bloody hell, Potter, stop trying to suffocate me!” he yelled, slapping at Harry’s arms. The Gryffindor loosened them quickly, but didn’t release his hold on the blond. They both turned their attention back to Seamus, who was staring at them with an odd look. Harry knew he must look ridiculous, because he couldn’t keep the frown from his lips and the glare from his eyes, and by all accounts it probably seemed like he was trying to protect what was his.

Which, of course, he definitely wasn’t.

And he knew from experience what Draco looked like just after he was snogged silly, so that probably wasn’t helping. Eventually, Seamus raised his chin a bit and smiled slowly. Harry blinked and Seamus snickered. He felt Draco tense in his arms again when Seamus gave them a wink before returning to his seat.

“What was that about?” Draco asked quickly, turning slightly to meet Harry’s eyes. The Gryffindor shrugged helplessly. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him and turned to face the front again, relaxing back against Harry. They were able to remain like this for a few more turns, and then Harry got bored and Draco got restless and began shifting around again.

Harry took that as an invitation to slip his hand back under Malfoy’s shirt. He was slightly surprised when the only response he got was the blond relaxing even further into him, and then suddenly one of Draco’s hands was tracing patterns up and down his thigh, his other hand resting on top of Harry’s spare one.

“M-Malfoy,” he said quietly, startled. A quick glance around the circle showed that no one was paying them any attention.

“What?” Draco returned, sounding slightly haughty. “You can touch me and I can’t touch you?” Draco’s hand slipped down and he ended up reaching behind himself slightly so that he could rub Harry’s inner thigh. Harry gulped, leg shifting out slightly against his will and he slumped lower against the wall, dragging Malfoy with him. “Can you be quiet?” the blond asked in a low voice, beginning to trace around Harry’s hardened length. The green-eyed boy nodded rapidly against Draco’s shoulder. The game still continued around them.

“Can you?” Harry smirked, lips curving against Malfoy’s neck, and the blond paused. “You’re the one they’ll be seeing, after all.” With that, he gently trailed his fingers beneath the top of the boy’s pants, feeling Draco suck in a breath, and deftly undid his zipper.

“Potter!” Malfoy hissed, knees coming up to block his hands from view. Harry sucked gently on the crook of Draco’s neck in response, causing him to let out a shuddering breath. His fingers moved beneath the boy’s boxers, and Draco’s breath hitched as they wrapped around the now familiar hot, velvety skin of his hardened cock. He slowly began to stroke him, and with a quick thrust of his own hips he had the Slytherin jumping back into action as well. Harry knew it had to be an awkward angle for Draco to be reaching behind him, but he really couldn’t care less. He felt those fingers undoing his zipper and reaching down to stroke his member, and he had to swallow a groan.

Half of Harry was mortified at what they were doing, scared stiff that someone might see them. The other half _wanted_ everyone to turn around and watch. Draco was having a hard time concentrating on keeping his knees up so no one would be able to see when all he really wanted to do was spread his legs out wide and thrust up into Harry’s hand.

Breathing shakily, hands moving quickly, eyes desperately trying to stay open, both boys continued stroking one another, bringing themselves within range of coming all down their pants.

But some part of Harry heard the slight pause in the group, the yawn of someone in the silence, and he yanked his hand away from Draco, clumsily zipping him back up.

“Ah…what- what the hell are you doing?” Malfoy gasped, eyes shooting open. He was just in time to see Pansy turning towards them.

“How are you boys doing?” she asked cheerfully. They could only stare guiltily at her, trying to look bored. Draco’s hand slammed against the ground in front of Harry’s crotch and he used it to push himself up, while Harry quickly did up his own pants.

“Bored,” he drawled, hoping his cheeks weren’t as flushed as they felt. Harry nodded in agreement.

“Well, I think we’re done here anyway,” the girl said, turning questioningly to the rest of the group. Most of them nodded or murmured their approval. “So are you coming, or would you like to spend the rest of your night here again?” This time Draco knew his cheeks were flushed, and Harry lazily dragged a hand through his hair.

“My bed’s a bit more comfortable than the floor,” he said, shoving Draco gently to the side and standing up. He made sure to adjust his shirt so that it covered the front of his trousers. “So I’m going to head back. Ron, Hermione, you coming?” His friends nodded and stood to follow him. Harry turned to walk out of the room, but before he could leave, his eyes sought out Malfoy again. The blond was also standing and brushing down his shirt. Harry saw the way it fell across his crotch as well. Draco noticed him staring and raised an eyebrow, and for a second, Harry didn’t know what to do.

In the end, he settled for a slight smile. When Draco blinked at him, Harry lifted his chin slightly and winked back. He watched as the blond’s lips pursed before slowly stretching into a smirk, and then he left the room with a grin on his face.


	7. Chapter 7

“Look, Granger, I’ve told you what I’m trying to get out of this. As inconceivable as it may seem to you, Slytherins _do_ have friends, and Draco is one of mine. I’m only trying to figure out what you’re trying to gain!”

“I know that, and I understand what you’ve told me, but that doesn’t mean I automatically trust you!”

Had someone been lurking about in the hallway outside the Potions classroom early that Sunday morning, they would have seen a sight that most people who had attended Hogwarts in recent years would call peculiar.

“Well I don’t know how you want me to prove it to you. What, do you think this is all some elaborate plan to present Potter to the Dark Lord?”

“No! No I don’t. I just…I know that Mal-…Draco’s your friend, so then you must understand that since Harry is _my_ friend; I’m worried about him as well!

After all, it’s not everyday that a Gryffindor and a Slytherin meet in dark, dank corridors to chat.

“You have nothing to be worried about.”

“Nothing- Pansy, Malfoy’s father is-”

“Still in Azkaban, in case you’ve forgotten. For the first time in his life, Draco is _finally_ not under his father’s influence. Being constantly surrounded by Potter’s goody-two-shoes attitude can only help him!”

“Or annoy him to no end.”

“…Or that.”

“Malfoy… _Draco_. I don’t know what it is about him, but he has this affect on Harry… He always has. Ever since first year, he’s the only person who can really get under Harry’s skin. He gets… _reactions_ out of Harry no matter what mood he’s in. Ever since last summer, Harry’s just been…depressed. He needs a distraction. Something to keep his attention away from losing-“

“So Draco’s to be a distraction.”

“No…well, yes, sort of. But more than that! You saw them last night-“

“Oh, Merlin, did I.”

“There’s something there, Pansy. These past few weeks, Harry has finally looked happy again.”

“Has he? Because Draco has been downright miserable and moody.”

“Ah, well, yes, so has Harry…but it’s different than it was before. He looks _alive_ again. He’s been able to concentrate on something other than Voldemort.”

“Alive…yeah, Draco looks like that too. He has that spark back in his eyes. I know his dad’s not actually dead, but being in prison…it feels the same. Like he’s never going to see him again.”

“Yes.”

“They’re good for each other. Aren’t they?”

“They’re each what the other needs.”

“But they’re both too stubborn for their own good.”

“…I can deal with Harry. I know what he’s reserved about. And Draco?”

“He’ll probably be more difficult. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well wipe that smirk off your face and hop to it. Winter holidays are coming up; I don’t know how the weeks apart will affect what we’ve been doing.”

“Right. I’ll get back to you if anything changes, Granger.”

“Ok. See you in class, Pansy.”

* * *

Pansy had just entered the common room and sealed the entrance behind her when she turned and found Draco standing silently in front of her, piercing stare narrowed on her face.

“Where have you been?” he asked slowly, sounding just a bit too calm. Pansy blinked, startled to see him, and quickly walked past him to sit on one of the couches. “Pansy!”

“I was just out walking!” she said defensively, smoothing out her robes as she sat.

“It’s a bit early, isn’t it?” Draco asked suspiciously.

“I like the morning air,” Pansy returned flatly. Draco eyed her doubtfully for a few seconds before moving to join her on the couch.

“I have something I wish to discuss with you,” he said shortly. Pansy raised an eyebrow at his tone.

“Well, let’s hear it then,” she replied in amusement. Draco’s brow furrowed.

“Alright. Pansy…what the hell were you trying to pull last night?”

“Excuse me?”

“Last night. With…that whole thing with _Potter_ and the _cuddling_ ,” Draco spat out. Pansy glanced aside, attempting to hide her grin.

“I thought you’d like that better than snogging him,” she replied airily.

“ _Better?_ It was worse! Snogging at least gets it done and over with quickly. That…that cuddling business… It was uncomfortable and hot and…uncomfortable…” He trailed off and Pansy leaned forward slightly to get a better look at his face, noticing how his eyes became glazed over.

“What, for your arm?” she asked, smirking when Draco’s eyes snapped back into focus and he rounded on her with a horrified look on his face.

“What?” he whispered, eyes still wide.

“Or maybe it was _hot_ and _uncomfortable_ because he had his hand down your pants nearly the whole time?” Pansy continued in an overly thoughtful tone. All the color drained from Draco’s face for a brief second, before coming back in a rush and tinting his cheeks pink.

“You saw?”

“Honey, we were all sitting less than fifteen feet away from you.”

“But no one was paying any attention to us!”

“Well see, there’s this thing called _peripheral vision_. It’s quite handy, really.” Draco groaned and dug his hands into his hair. “Oh, cheer up, Draco. It’s not like it’s the end of the world that you like Potter.”

“ _Like_ him?!” Draco exclaimed, jumping up from the couch to stare down at Pansy in disbelief. “I don’t like him, I hate him!” His dark-haired friend rolled her eyes, grabbing his sleeve to pull him back down next to her.

“Sure, sure, whatever. But since you’ve been getting to know him better-”

“I have not been ‘getting to know him,’” Draco said darkly.

“Don’t you two ever talk during your little practice sessions?” Pansy asked curiously.

“There’s only been two!” Draco cried, and Pansy quickly shushed him before anyone else could pick up on their conversation. “You make it sound like it’s a regular thing,” he continued in a quieter voice, glancing around nervously. “And besides...our mouths are usually otherwise occupied.” Pansy’s eyebrows rose and her mouth quirked up in amusement, while Draco blushed slightly.

“Well, then I think you _should_ get to know him,” she declared, ignoring Draco’s narrowed gaze.

“Pansy… _why?_ One, he’s a boy and I _don’t_ like boys, just in case that somehow became unclear in the past few weeks. Two, it’s Potter. Three, he’s the Dark Lord’s enemy. Four, it’s _Potter_ -”

“Oh, for the love of- You’re not still going on about the Dark Lord, are you?” Pansy interrupted, lips pursed. Draco slowly turned to look at her.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Pansy frowned, turning away and clenching her hands together in her lap. “Pansy?”

“I just think it’s silly, that’s all,” she said quickly.

“…You think it’s silly,” Draco repeated. Pansy nodded quickly. “What exactly are you saying?”

“Draco…” She turned to face him, eyes full of remorse. Draco’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“You’ve chosen not to follow him,” he said quietly. Pansy hesitated slightly, before nodding again. “You’re going to betray your parents, turn against everything they’ve ever taught you,” he continued, and Pansy slowly closed her eyes.

“I’m not betraying anybody,” she said in the same quiet voice he was using. “I’m simply becoming my own person rather than my parents’ shadow.”

“You’re betraying me!” Draco shouted furiously, standing once more. This time Pansy stood as well to face him.

“I am not!” she insisted, hands closing into fists at her side. “I don’t agree with what the Dark Lord’s doing, but that doesn’t mean I’m betraying you or anybody else! And neither is Blaise, or Millicent, or Theodore-“

“Blaise- what, _Theodore_ -“ Draco spluttered. “Have you been _recruiting_ people or something?!”

“They feel the same way I do! It’s _stupid_ -“

“No it’s not!”

“It is, Draco!” Pansy yelled, before visibly trying to calm herself down. “It is,” she continued in a much more controlled voice. Draco remained quiet for a few seconds, breathing harshly through his nose.

“And that’s why you want me with Potter, is it?” he finally spoke up. Pansy sighed, not meeting his eyes. “You think he’ll change my mind about things. So you’re basically just _using_ him.”

“I’m not using him,” Pansy said sharply. “I think he’s good for you.” Draco scoffed, nose wrinkling in disgust. “Oh, stop that! I know that’s not how you really feel.”

“Ah, but it is, Pansy. He’s been a thorn in my side since first year-“

“When he blew you off,” Pansy cut in, rolling her eyes. Draco’s eyes narrowed and his mouth slowly clenched shut, and Pansy immediately knew she’d said the wrong thing. “Draco-”

“You know what? Fuck. You,” Draco said shortly, watching as Pansy’s eyes widened. “Fuck you, fuck Potter, fuck Blaise and Theodore and Millicent! You want to be traitors? Fine! But don’t come whining to me when you find yourself on the wrong end of the Killing Curse. Potter’s going to lose, just you wait. My father-”

“Is in _prison_ , Draco! Prison! Is that what you want for yourself?” Pansy cried. There was only a few seconds pause before Draco spoke again.

“And that’s Potter’s fault too, isn’t it?” he said quietly, darkly.

“No, it’s your-… _our_ fathers’ faults for following the Dark Lord,” was Pansy’s sharp reply. Draco glared at her for a few more seconds before turning on his heel and walking furiously towards the exit. “Draco!” Pansy called desperately.

“Fuck off, Parkinson,” was Draco’s reply, before he disappeared from the room. Pansy sighed, barely noticing when someone stepped up next to her.

“Well that went well,” Blaise said sarcastically. Pansy frowned and smacked his shoulder before falling back onto the couch and resting her chin on her fist. “I’ll go after him,” Blaise decided. Pansy just waved him off, and the boy headed out after Draco.

* * *

Draco was pissed. He couldn’t believe the nerve of her! Pansy, his so called _friend_. Who did she think she was, trying to set him up with Potter of all people! Surely if she was so keen on turning him away from the Dark Lord, there were better people she could have picked. Draco hadn’t gotten along with Potter for six years, what made her think they could start to get along now? And she didn’t believe in what the Dark Lord was trying to do? Since when?!

Some part of Draco’s mind informed him that she might have always felt that way; that maybe she’d just been trying to impress him in the past. He ignored that thought, though.

Even more shocking was that she wasn’t the only one of their house that felt this way. When had he wandered into this alternate universe? Why hadn’t Draco been informed that everyone was suddenly going to go insane?

Draco continued to storm through the castle, thoughts tumbling through his head. He was furious with Pansy, he was surprised about Theodore and Blaise, he couldn’t get that idiot Potter out of his mind…

It was probably not the best time for him to run into the Gryffindor.

“Malfoy,” he heard a surprised voice say, and Draco glanced up to see Harry standing awkwardly a few feet in front of him. The Slytherin couldn’t help his reaction to seeing him and he felt his cheeks burn. An annoyed groan left his throat.

“Potter,” he returned quietly. Harry glanced around, looking nervous, and coughed slightly. “What are you doing down here?”

“Kitchen,” Harry answered shortly. “I…didn’t much feel like going to breakfast.” Draco instantly knew that meant he was avoiding his dorm mates. That, of course, brought his thoughts back around to the previous night and why he was so mad in the first place. The angry feelings swept through him again. He walked forward quickly, startling the other boy and causing him to jump to the side and out of his way. Draco took advantage of that and reached forward, grabbing Harry’s shoulder and pinning him to the wall.

Harry looked completely alarmed now, eying Draco warily as he leaned towards him. “I hate you,” Draco whispered harshly. Harry’s eyes widened and then quickly narrowed.

“Feeling’s mutual, Malfoy,” he spat. Draco sneered and moved even closer to the Gryffindor, pushing their bodies flush up against each other. Harry’s heart raced involuntarily at the unexpected contact.

“Nothing has changed,” he growled. “I don’t care what Pansy and your stupid Mudblood are trying to do, I still hate you. And I meant what I said last year.” Harry cocked an eyebrow at him and concentrated on leaving his arms hanging loosely at his sides rather than pushing him off. “I’m going to get you for what you did to my father. You’re going to pay.” Both of Harry’s eyebrows rose this time, and the doubtful look in his eyes only made Draco madder.

“And just what are you going to do to me?” Harry asked, smirking. Draco breathed in deeply, blinking several times as he continued to stare at the other boy. Then, before he could really figure out what he was doing, he lunged forward, hands still holding Harry’s shoulders against the wall, and planted his mouth on the other boy’s. Harry gasped, eyes widening, and Draco took full advantage of his open mouth, tongue sweeping forward and roughly massaging Harry’s.

Harry remained lax for a few stunned seconds before slowly returning the kiss. There was something about it that was different from all the previous times they’d been together. It was rougher, more violent, and as Harry vigorously attacked Draco’s mouth, their teeth clacked together. Harry’s hands came up and gripped at Draco’s biceps while Draco dug his hands into Harry’s thick hair. The Gryffindor couldn’t help the throaty moans that escaped him and mixed with Draco’s in the otherwise silent corridor. He ran his hands down Draco’s sides to grab at his robes and pull him even closer. Their bodies ground together, reveling in the growing familiarity of being pressed together.

The notion of breaking apart for air passed through each boy’s mind, but was swiftly shoved to the side and ignored as they devoured each other, their arousal growing stronger with every second. But eventually, after the shock and then ecstasy began to wear off, Harry began to wonder just what the hell he was doing. He stilled below Draco slightly, so that the other boy didn’t even notice, and then he quickly shoved him away. The blond stumbled back a few steps and glared furiously at Harry, drawing in quick breaths. Then he seemed to realize just what had happened and he stared at the other boy in horror.

“Oh God,” he whispered. Harry wiped his hand across his mouth, blinking at the Slytherin.

“Not gay, eh? Hate me, do you?” he muttered, still staring at Draco and attempting to catch his breath.

“No! And yes!” Draco exclaimed. “I do hate you! You’re a fucking prick who landed my father in jail!”

“Uh-huh,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. Then he caught site of something behind the blond and his eyes widened. “Oh, bollocks,” he mumbled. Draco spun around, face paling.

“Blaise!” he moaned despairingly. His fellow Slytherin was standing a little ways down the hall, mouth open in shock.

“I…I thought I’d come find you,” he said, shaking his head slightly. “Make sure you were ok after storming out on Pansy.” Blaise blinked a few times, before smirking. “I guess I didn’t have to worry.”

“This…this isn’t what you think,” Draco insisted.

“Right,” Blaise rolled his eyes.

“No, it really isn’t,” Harry spoke up. “I don’t even know why he… It was completely…never mind. Forget it.” Not waiting for an answer, Harry walked briskly past the two, ignoring Blaise’s still smirking face.

“Merlin, I hate him,” Draco scowled as soon as the Gryffindor had disappeared around the corner. Blaise let out a short laugh and Draco turned to glare at him.

“Look, Draco, I don’t care,” he said in a placating way. “Ok? Whatever’s going on-”

“There is _nothing_ going on!”

“Come on, Draco, I just caught you snogging him!” Blaise said in exasperation. Draco didn’t reply, he just continued to glare at his friend. Blaise sighed. “Fine. There’s nothing going on. Can we get some breakfast now? I’m starving!” When Draco’s glare didn’t let up, Blaise shifted in confusion. “Is…something wrong?” he asked.

“Do you know _why_ I walked out on Pansy, Blaise?” Draco asked coldly. His fellow Slytherin looked slightly nervous.

“Yes,” he replied hesitantly. “You’re honestly going to stay mad at me for _that?_ ” Draco didn’t answer, but after a few seconds pause he spun around and stalked off towards the Great Hall, leaving Blaise to stare helplessly after him.

* * *

“Harry, can I talk to you?” Harry, who’d been halfway out the door, sighed and dropped his bag on the ground. He’d known this would be coming, but he’d hoped he could avoid it for at least another day…or week. Ron paused on the top of the stairway, but Harry waved him on, turning to face Seamus instead.

“Sure, what can I do for you?” he asked warily. Seamus had been watching him a little too closely all day yesterday and Harry had avoided talking to him, not really keen on getting dragged into another discussion about Malfoy, especially after what the Slytherin had done yesterday morning. Harry was pretty set on avoiding him too, actually. At least until he figured out why Malfoy had felt it necessary to snog him as revenge.

“Shut the door, I don’t want anyone else hearing me,” Seamus said. He was currently kneeling on the floor and digging through his trunk, though Harry wasn’t sure what he was looking for. The green-eyed boy slowly shut the door, leaning back against it.

“What’s up, Seamus?”

“I have something I want to give you…if I could just bloody find it!”

“What is it?” Harry asked, watching as the boy started tossing clothes over his shoulder.

“It’s…well, you’ll see…hopefully, if I actually manage to- Ha! Found it!” Seamus stood, grinning triumphantly, and walked to stand in front of Harry. He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, shifting from foot to foot. “Don’t get mad,” he said quickly, before holding out a small jar to Harry. The other boy accepted it, brow furrowing in confusion as he stared at it.

“Again, what is it?” Harry repeated, turning the jar in his hands. He peered closely at the small print on the label, and his eyes shot wide open, color flaring in his cheeks. “Seamus!” he exclaimed, nearly dropping the container.

“Harry, just hear me out!” Seamus said loudly, holding up his hands defensively.

“No! What…I mean…Seamus!” Harry glanced around as if someone might possibly be listening, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “ _Lubricant?_ ” he hissed.

“Look, I just want you to have it-”

“I don’t need it!”

“Well, just in case-”

“In case _what?_ ”

“Harry-”

“ _Seamus_ -”

“Merlin, Harry, shut up and calm down for a second!” Seamus shouted at the nearly hyperventilating boy. “You don’t even know why I’m giving it to you!”

“Of course I do!” Harry exclaimed.

“Oh really?” Seamus asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s it for, then?” Harry opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out. After a slight pause, his cheeks flushed again and he frowned. “See? You don’t know-”

“It’s for wanking and stuff,” Harry cut in quickly, cheeks turning a deeper red. “It makes it feel…better,” he continued lamely, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. Seamus smirked and shook his head slightly.

“Not entirely,” he answered. Harry looked confused, so the Irish boy took it upon himself to explain further. “You know how boys have sex with each other, right?”

“Well you’ve blabbed about it enough, I think I have some idea,” Harry groused.

“You know we take it up the arse then?”

“Well to put it in blunt terms…” Harry’s nose wrinkled slightly and he shifted awkwardly. “Yeah, I knew that.”

“Have you ever actually thought about the mechanics of it?” Seamus asked, laughing slightly. Harry blinked.

“ _No_ ,” he replied.

“Well…think about it,” Seamus told him. The other boy blinked again, brow furrowing. “Seems damn near impossible, right?” Harry shifted once more, looking extremely uncomfortable now.

“Very,” he said softly. Seamus gestured towards the jar he was still holding.

“That’s why you use lube,” he said easily, as if they were discussing the weather. Harry’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“You use that. It makes for an easier,” Seamus paused and attempted to demonstrate with vague gestures of his hands, “entry. Not as much friction, see. Listen, Harry, it’s really important that you stretch yourself out before-”

“Oh my God, Seamus, I do not need nor do I _want_ sex education from you!” Harry exploded, eyes squeezing shut and arms thrown out in front of him as if to ward to Irish boy off.

“Two fingers at the very least, but I really think if it’s your first time you should try for three-”

“ _SEAMUS!_ ” Harry looked absolutely scandalized, and Seamus couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of him. “It’s not funny- Look, Seamus, just take this back, ok?” The other boy shook his head, still trying to catch his breath, and back away slightly.

“No, I really think you should take it, Harry. I mean, you never know…”

“I don’t need it, Seamus,” Harry insisted, holding out the jar and silently begging him to take it back. “I don’t _want_ it.”

“Harry…just take it, ok? I’m not saying or even suggesting that you’re actually going to use it. But take it. Please?” Seamus crossed his arms so that Harry couldn’t try to thrust the jar back into his hands. Harry sighed.

“Does this have anything to do with Malfoy?” he asked suspiciously. Seamus shrugged.

“Why? Were you planning on _practicing_ something else?” He grinned suggestively, leaning forward a bit, and Harry couldn’t stop his cheeks from turning even redder.

“No,” he snapped. Then he immediately got suspicious. “Why? Should we?” Harry’s eyes widened in panic. “Do you know what they’re planning on daring us to do next? Oh God, what is it? Is it horrible??”

“I don’t know anything!” Seamus laughed. “Calm down, Harry.”

“Then why are you giving me this?” Harry cried.

“Just…because. I want you to have it.” Harry stared disbelievingly at the Irish boy before sighing.

“Fine,” he said shortly, lips pursing. “But I won’t ever use it.” Seamus opened his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by someone knocking on the door. Harry backed off it quickly so that they could open it, and they found Hermione standing on the other side.

“Oh good, Harry, Ron told me you were still up here,” she said, stepping past both boys to sit on one of the beds.

“Did you need something, Hermione?” Harry asked, quickly slipping the jar into one of the pockets of his robe before his friend could see it.

“I just wanted to talk to you,” she said pleasantly, smiling at him. Harry frowned in return.

“Apparently everyone wants to talk to me this morning. At this rate, I’m going to be late for class,” he replied.

“Ah, yes well… I was just wondering how things were going for you,” Hermione said cheerfully. It sounded a bit forced, and Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

“Um… _Things_ are fine, thanks,” he answered slowly. “It’s not like I don’t already talk to you everyday.”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure everything was ok with Draco.”

“…Draco?” Harry asked incredulously. “Since when has he been _Draco?_ And everything is NOT ok with him, just like things have NEVER been ok with him. Hermione, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, why?” Hermione replied quickly. Seamus whistled innocently off to the side. Harry glanced between the two of them several times, before something finally clicked in his mind.

“You’re trying to set us up!” he accused, eyes going wide. “Merlin, why didn’t I notice it before? You _want_ us to get together!”

“Harry, honestly, listen to yourself. Why would I try to pair you with your worst enemy?” Hermione said innocently.

“He’s not my worst enemy, Voldemort is. Malfoy’s just a prat,” Harry replied off-handedly, looking thoughtful. “I guess it wouldn’t make sense if you wanted me to be with him. You hate him.” Hermione shared a quick look with Seamus.

“I don’t really hate him, per se,” she said slowly. “I mean, do you?”

“Yes,” Harry said flatly.

“Ah. You know, Harry, if you didn’t…that’d be ok.”

“No it wouldn’t.”

“Yes it would!” Hermione insisted. “Nobody would mind.”

“Ron would. And it doesn’t matter anyway, I hate him!” Harry said.

“Ron wouldn’t mind either,” Seamus spoke up. “Haven’t you noticed how hard he’s been trying the past few weeks to make that obvious? Harry, nobody cares!”

“I care!” Harry shouted. “I don’t like him, I don’t _want_ to like him, I can’t like him!”

“And why not?” Seamus asked. “Is it because he’s a boy?”

“Yes! I mean, well, _no_ , but… Seamus, look, I have no problem with blokes liking blokes…but I’m not one who does,” Harry said.

“Alright, let’s forget about the whole ‘gay’ issue for a second,” the Irish boy said, rolling his eyes. “Why can’t you like Malfoy?” Harry frowned, crossing his arms.

“Because he’s on Voldemort’s side,” he replied, as if the answer was obvious.

“Well, Harry,” Hermione cut in, “Have you ever tried to change that?” Harry looked at her in confusion. “We kind of all just accepted that the Slytherins would follow Voldemort,” she explained. “Have we ever considered maybe talking to them about it? You know, tried to change their minds? Maybe all they need is a reason to switch sides. Most of them probably don’t even know what they’re following; they just listen to their parents.”

“Talk to them about it,” Harry repeated slowly. “Right, that would work. Hermione, none of them _want_ to be talked to. They don’t care about switching sides.”

“You’re wrong, Harry,” Hermione said softly. “Some of them already have switched sides. Pansy, for instance.”

“She has?” Harry asked, surprised. “How do you know?”

“She told me.”

“You talk to her?”

“Of course,” Hermione said flippantly, as if they’d always been friends.

“So, basically you want me to _talk_ to Malfoy…try to get him to betray his father, even though he insists it’s my fault that his father’s in Azkaban in the first place,” Harry said dubiously. When Hermione nodded, he rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“Harry, maybe you haven’t noticed since you’ve been so wrapped up with Malfoy lately,” Harry started to protest, but Seamus continued, ignoring him, “but ever since we’ve started these Saturday games, the house rivalries have sort of…died.”

“They have not!” Harry exclaimed, eyes going wide.

“Well, for the most part they have,” Seamus replied, sighing in exasperation. “But like I said, you and Malfoy have been too caught up in each other to notice.”

“Are you saying we’re _friends_ with the Slytherins now?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“Not necessarily friends,” Hermione spoke up, “But take Pansy and I for example. We talk quite often now, when I see her in the hall or in classes.”

“Theodore Nott and I were paired together for that Defense Against the Dark Arts project, and we get along fine,” Seamus added.

“Nott doesn’t go on Saturday,” Harry said quickly. Seamus shrugged.

“We still get along, though. Funny, isn’t it?” Harry frowned. “Harry, what we’re trying to say is that if you wanted something to happen between you and Malfoy, even if it was just friendship,” Seamus added loudly when Harry opened his mouth, “nobody would care. Ok? You’re allowed to do whatever you want!” Harry bit his bottom lip nervously, looking between Seamus and Hermione.

“You’re serious?” he asked slowly. “Not that I want anything to happen between us, of course, but theoretically, if something did…you wouldn’t mind?”

“Wouldn’t mind at all,” Seamus quipped, grinning.

“Harry, we’d be happy for you,” Hermione said softly, also smiling. Harry still looked nervous, and he jumped slightly when the door banged open and Ron barged into the room.

“You lot realize you missed breakfast and you’re about to be late for class, right?” he asked loudly, before stopping abruptly when he saw the awkward look on Harry’s face. “Did I…interrupt something?”

“No, Ron, actually you’re here just in time,” Hermione said brightly, jumping off the bed to walk towards him. “How do you feel about Malfoy, Ron?”

“ _Malfoy?_ ” Ron spat questioningly. Then he caught sight of the dark look Hermione was giving him and quickly rethought what he was going to say. “Oh! Malfoy. Um, well, he’s not exactly my favorite person in the world but I guess if any of my best friends were interested in him in a more than platonic way, I certainly wouldn’t mind and I’d only hope that they realized what they were getting themselves into because I wouldn’t want them to get hurt,” he said in a rush. Then he frowned slightly. “But they’d have to also understand that if they did get hurt, nothing would stop me from turning Malfoy into the ferret that he is- _was_ \- and feeding him to Crookshanks.” Hermione grinned and nodded in approval, turning to Harry.

“See?” she said cheerfully. “Ron has no problem with it.” Ron’s lips pursed and his shoulders sagged in defeat as he also turned to face Harry.

“Something you need to tell me?” he asked resignedly. Harry’s eyes widened and he quickly shook his head.

“No, there’s nothing, Ron, I promise.”

“Nothing yet, anyway,” Seamus put in, smirking. Harry glared at him.

“Well, not that I’m not eager to hear this,” Ron said, rolling his eyes, “but we really are going to be late if we don’t leave now.” His fellow Gryffindors nodded, before they all headed out the door to their first class.

* * *

For lack of a better place to put it, but mostly in fear of touching it again, Harry took to carrying around the jar Seamus had given him in his pocket. He tried not to think about it, which became difficult since it bounced heavily against his leg as he walked. And every time it came to mind, he became a blushing wreck.

This also happened to be the result whenever he ran into Malfoy or saw him in the halls. The Slytherin usually reacted in a fairly similar matter, and the two didn’t even bother pretending that things were the same as they had always been. Kissing on a dare was one thing. Hell, they could even pass off the blowjobs since they’d been practicing, but snogging impromptu in a deserted hallway? Not acceptable. And even when Harry tried to write it off by insisting to himself that Malfoy had initiated it, he knew that he had also been an active participant.

All these thoughts combined, Malfoy, his apparent willingness, and the lubricant still in his pocket, left Harry with several unpleasant, or very pleasant, depending on what mood he was in, thoughts and ideas lurking through his mind. They also became the cause of several restless nights of sleep, which all came to a head on Thursday.

Harry hadn’t even been asleep yet this time, for fear of having another one of those dreams. But, inevitably, trying to _not_ think about them of course meant it was the only thing he could concentrate on, and as he ran the various scenarios he’d been dreaming about through his mind, he grew continually hotter and restless. Eventually, as his brain insisted on reminding him of the times Malfoy had gone down on him, he flipped onto his back and kicked off his covers, finding it far too stifling under them. He could clearly remember Malfoy’s soft hands on his skin. He could almost feel the way his fringe had brushed against his stomach.

It barely registered as Harry slipped his hand down his chest, idly stroking the skin beneath his shirt.

If he closed his eyes and really thought about it, he could feel those hands pushing his legs open as the blond kneeled in between them.

Harry’s knees came up and he planted his feet on the bed, legs spreading apart.

It was so easy to remember Malfoy’s nervousness as he leaned forward and breathed hotly on his aroused cock, the slight movement of air more than enough to send shivers down Harry’s spine.

The cool air that brushed against him now as he unconsciously slid his hand beneath his boxers had the same affect. Harry bit his lip slightly to hold in any noises, not wanting to wake his friends, as he stared blankly at the canvas above him.

And Malfoy’s tongue, with its tentative movements, wrapping slowly around his member… Harry’s trailing fingers mirrored the feeling now, and the muscles in his thighs tightened.

Malfoy…he would begin to move up and down now, continually bobbing his head- Harry’s fingers tightened and followed the movement he could see in his mind’s eye. The Slytherin would be sucking now…Harry clenched his hand even tighter and pulled in quick, sharp movements.

Normally, Harry would be trying his best to hold still, but here, in his own bed, he moved freely, hips thrusting and hand moving. Over and over and over and Harry could almost believe that Draco was there with him, hands holding him in place as he sucked harder and harder and harder. Harry’s eyes squeezed shut and his teeth ground together. He could feel the sweat dripping from his brow and thoughts of two sweat-slicked bodies sliding together flashed in his mind and he was so close now! Almost there-

A loud snore sounded from the bed next to his, and he paused abruptly, eyes shooting open and hand stilling as he became aware of his surroundings again. He heard Ron turn over noisily, sheets and blankets rustling around him as his bed creaked. Harry panted slightly as he glanced confusedly around the darkened room. Hadn’t he just been in the Room of Requirement?

Belatedly noticing his own hand down his pants, Harry blanched and quickly yanked it away, feeling something akin to terror sweep through him as he realized what he’d been doing. He groaned quietly and cursed under his breath, turning over to rest on his stomach. This only pressed his extremely aroused member into the bed beneath him, and he squeezed his eyes shut again. He’d hoped it would go away, but apparently his body had other plans. After about five painfully long minutes, Harry slowly turned back over again and tapped his fingers agitatedly against his stomach.

Then he realized he could still finish what he’d started…he didn’t _have_ to think about Malfoy. Taking a deep breath, Harry slid his hand beneath his boxers again and wrapped his fingers around his aching cock. He tried picturing someone else, and the first person that came to mind was Cho. Quickly discarding that idea, he thought about Seamus, before realizing that probably wasn’t much of an improvement over Malfoy. Plus, he was a boy. So, no, that wouldn’t work.

He settled on Parvati for no particular reason, and tried to imagine her small mouth closing over him. It worked for a few seconds, and then Harry vaguely starting thinking that her hair was far too dark, and suddenly she became a platinum blond. Then her hands were too small, and they became slightly larger. He imagined himself looking down at her, seeing her brown eyes staring back up at him, gaze open and friendly. And then he blinked and her stare became piercing, brown morphing quickly into grey, and the next thing Harry knew, he was staring at Malfoy again.

Harry gave in, eyes closing resignedly. He jerkily moved his hand a few more times before he came with a sobbing breath, thoughts of Malfoy still lingering in his mind. Absently wiping his hand off on the bed sheets, Harry rolled over once more and buried his face in his pillow, trying to forget what had just happened, who he’d just wanked to…

By the time Saturday rolled around again, Harry was a complete mess.

Draco looked a bit better off, if only because he wasn’t carrying around lubricant. That, and he’d practically forgotten that Harry had indeed been kissing him back on Sunday. His mind was in a constant loop of regret and horror over what he’d done, and he was very worried about what it might mean. The situation with his House hadn’t gotten much better, mainly because he refused to talk with Pansy, but also in part because Blaise had taken to defending all muggleborns, and it was beginning to annoy Draco to no end. He couldn’t quite understand how suddenly half his year was fighting Potter’s fight; it just didn’t make sense!

Harry arrived at the classroom with Ron. Hermione had gone ahead earlier, and the two boys discovered why when they walked through the open door. Their friend was in deep conversation with Pansy, and the Slytherin girl had a very thoughtful look on her face. It instantly sent shivers down Harry’s spine because once again he didn’t know what to expect from the night.

It turned out that he needn’t have worried.

For nearly two hours, Harry sat stiffly next to Ron, watching the happenings of the group. There was a lot of talking going on between everyone present, and he noticed belatedly that most of his peers weren’t even sitting with members of their own House. It occurred to Harry then that most people probably didn’t even show up to play the Truth or Dare games anymore. It was more an excuse to be able to hang out again. It was almost like if they didn’t have these specific gatherings, people wouldn’t go out of their way to talk to any new friends they might have made. Thinking over the past couple of weeks, Harry realized that more and more people had started coming back to the parties again. When they had first started playing, it had been a large group of people, but as the dares got more embarrassing and revealing less people had returned each week. Since the dares had, for the most part, started mellowing out again, more students began to come back, simply to be in the company of their classmates.

Harry had always been a fan of the idea of House unity within Hogwarts, and clearly that’s what these parties were starting to accomplish. He’d just never realized that he’d actually have to make an effort for that to truly happen. It was no secret that the main rivalry of their year, and possibly of the entire school in general, was between him and Draco. So if House unity was actually going to be accomplished, they’d have to be the ones to put aside their differences.

Harry snorted, thinking how unlikely that would be, and kissed Susan Bones when Zacharias Smith dared him to.

* * *

“Alright, people, I say we call it a night,” Pansy spoke up sometime later. She ignored the stunned looks from two particular boys and stood to stretch. “Now, next week is the last Saturday we’ll have before break, so I’ll have to think of something really special for us all to do,” she continued cheerfully. “In the meantime, good luck to everyone on your mid term exams!” Conversations continued quietly as everyone made their way out into the hall, swiftly going back to their respective common rooms. Harry was still blinking in confusion as Hermione practically dragged him from the room. Finally, the only two people left were Draco and Pansy, who was busy straightening everything up so that the room looked like it had been unused.

“So that’s it?” Draco asked. Pansy paused, glancing at him with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, you’re talking to me again, are you?” she quipped. Draco frowned and pushed himself to his feet.

“Only for a minute,” he grumbled, glaring at her. Pansy rolled her eyes.

“Of course,” she said. “So what was it you asked?”

“You didn’t…there was no dare…for Potter and I,” Draco said slowly, uncertainly. He crossed his arms, foot tapping nervously against the ground.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Pansy said, not sounding sorry at all. “Was that a problem? I’ll be sure to remember next time that you were disappointed that you and Potter didn’t get any action tonight.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Draco snapped. “I just… What are you planning, Pansy?”

“Did it ever occur to you that people might just be getting tired of watching you two get off on each other?” Pansy asked, turning to walk out of the room. Draco blushed slightly and trailed after her.

“I know you, Pansy,” he said sharply. “I know you’re planning something, now what is it?!” The girl stopped abruptly causing Draco to nearly run into her, and she spun around to face him. She took two steps forward and Draco held his ground so that they were only inches apart.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” she said in a low voice, a smirk gracing her lips. She turned and continued walking down the hall, leaving Draco to swallow nervously as he stared after her.

* * *

Draco wanted no time wasted the following week, and by Monday evening he’d once again accosted Harry and dragged him into that abandoned classroom they’d so frequently been meeting in.

“Let go of me, Malfoy!” Harry snapped, wrenching his arm out of the blond’s grip once the door was shut firmly behind them. “What do you want? If you’re planning on snogging me again, I want you to know that I fully object.” Draco blushed slightly, but ignored the Gryffindor and began pacing up and down the room.

“There’s something going on,” he said shortly. “They’re planning something, Pansy and Granger. I don’t know what it is, but it can’t be good.” He lifted his head and Harry saw the panicked look his wide eyes held.

“How do you know?” he asked quickly.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Draco returned. “We started out kissing. Then they had you wank me. Then they made me give you a blowjob. But rather than building up from there, Pansy dared us to _cuddle_ instead. Oh, and they saw us, by the way. Last week.”

“They did?!” Harry exclaimed, face paling.

“Yes, but that’s not important,” Draco said quickly, waving it aside. “This past Saturday…there was nothing. No dare, no kissing, they didn’t even tell us to hold hands!”

“And you’re…upset about that,” Harry guessed hesitantly. He quickly held up his hands defensively and winced slightly when Draco stopped and glared at him. “Sorry…”

“I told Pansy to tell me what she was planning,” the blond continued, starting to pace again. “But she told me I’d just have to wait and see. And she said she’d think of something special for next week. Something big, remember?” Harry nodded slowly, beginning to understand just what the Slytherin was getting at.

“You don’t think…” he trailed off, feeling his pulse quicken as he started breathing more quickly.

“I don’t know what to think,” Draco admitted, finally stopping and sitting on a desk across from the Gryffindor. “Something’s happening. The tension’s building, it’s like everyone knows about it but us. Like they’re trying to catch us off guard.”

“And we don’t want to be caught off guard, right?” Harry nervously asked.

“I’d rather not be,” Draco said quietly.

“What…I mean, how big…” Harry trailed off, swallowing. “How far are they willing to take this?”

“You’ve seen what people have been doing. You and me, Patil and Boot, the various girls who have flashed the group…” Draco shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what they’d have us do.” Harry noticed how worried Draco really did look and he felt vaguely insulted. Sighing, he dug his hands into his pockets, one bumping against the now familiar jar that still had its home there.

He paused.

“Malfoy,” Harry said slowly, fingers clenching around the jar. Draco glanced up, blinking at the determined look on Harry’s face.

“What?”

“Do…do you have Quidditch practice tomorrow night?” he asked. Draco’s eyes narrowed slightly and he shook his head.

“No. Why?”

“…Meet me in the Room of Requirement. Nine o’clock.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex time!! Sex starts here. Lots of awkward, hopefully fairly realistic first time boy fumblings. And more shagging from here on out! Just FYI.

Harry had already been pacing about the Room of Requirement for a good twenty minutes by the time Draco showed up at precisely nine o’clock. The blond took one look into the room and sneered at Harry.

“Same room as always, I see,” he drawled. “With that bed _again_. Honestly, Potter, we’re going to have to do something about that perverse corner of your mind.” Harry made a choking sound and paled slightly, eyes darting nervously to the bed that was indeed still looming in the back of the room.

“Did you have anything specific in mind?” he attempted to ask innocently, though his averted eyes and shaky voice ruined it.

“Excuse me?” Draco asked uncertainly.

“Nothing,” was Harry’s quick reply and he dug his hands nervously into his pants pockets. He’d discarded his robes, and everything they contained, out of sight near the couch earlier. There was a pause as Draco eyed Harry suspiciously, before he sighed.

“Ok, Potter, I’m here. So what’s the plan?” he asked resignedly. The Gryffindor’s eyes widened.

“Er… W-well…I thought maybe…um…” he stuttered, and then gestured helplessly at the couch. “Sit down, Malfoy. Let’s talk.”

“ _Talk?_ ” Draco repeated incredulously as he moved to sit down. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

“Um…” Harry wasn’t actually sure, but he suddenly felt the need to put off his ‘plan’ for as long as possible. He followed Draco, sitting down on the arm of the couch and planting his feet on the cushions, and fished around for a topic they could discuss. “Quidditch?” he offered hesitantly. Draco snorted.

“I’m not talking about Quidditch with you. As if you need anymore advantages.”

“I didn’t mean Hogwarts Quidditch! I meant, um…well, which team are you pulling for this season? Ron reckons the Chudley Cannons will-”

“Potter,” Draco interrupted, looking strangely at Harry, “we…are _not_ friends.”

“Well, obviously,” Harry retorted, annoyed.

“So why are you trying to _talk_ to me?”

“I just thought…um…well, actually I’m just putting off what…er…”

“It’s that bad?” Harry noticed Draco looked slightly ill.

“It’s…pretty bad,” he said hesitantly. Draco took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He stretched his legs out in front of him and rested his feet on the table, crossed at the ankle.

“We could talk about girls,” he said in a bored tone, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back on them.

“Girls?” Harry repeated, eyebrows rising. “That just sounds like another attempt to prove your heterosexuali-“

“Shut up!” Draco snapped.

“Right.” Harry grinned. “Ok, so what about girls?” Apparently Draco hadn’t thought that far, because it took him a few seconds to answer.

“Who do you wank to?” he finally asked. Harry blanched.

“That’s none of your business!” he snapped. Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “Well would you tell me who _you_ wanked to?”

“Padma Patil. Or Parvati,” the Slytherin answered immediately, before looking thoughtful. “Or both, really.”

“Ah,” Harry answered, unable to keep his lips from quirking upwards. “I’ve wanked to Parvati before.” Then he remembered exactly how far that had gotten him last time he’d tried. Blushing, he quickly shoved the thought from his mind. “I used to think about Cho…but that didn’t turn out so well.”

“Apparently not,” Draco smirked. Harry glowered at him.

“New topic,” he grumbled.

“So think of something,” Draco retorted. There were a few moments of awkward silence as neither boy could think of anything interesting to say. Harry kept looking around the room and fidgeting with his hands. He glanced toward Draco, noticing that he looked as if he’d fallen asleep. He refrained from finding a pillow to throw at him.

“So…” Harry finally spoke up, picking nervously at his shirt.

“Did you know that Pansy’s on your side?” Draco asked suddenly. His eyes were still closed.

“Yeah, I knew that,” Harry answered after a few seconds, startled. Malfoy scowled, eyes opening to glare at nothing in particular.

“Did everyone know but me?” he spat.

“Well Hermione only told me a few days ago.”

“She’s not even the only one!” Draco continued, ignoring Harry. “My whole House has gone crazy. Even _Blaise_ doesn’t support the Dark Lord.”

“I take it you still do?” Harry asked quietly.

“Of course I do!” Draco snapped, turning to look at Harry. “Why would I betray my father to go gallivanting off to Dumbledore’s side? To _your_ side?”

“Because Voldemort’s an idiot and you’re smarter than that?” Harry offered. Draco’s flinch was barely noticeable, but Harry caught it anyway. “You can’t even say his name!”

“Out of _respect_ ,” Draco hissed. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Right.”

“I’m joining the Dark Lord’s side and I promise you, Potter, I will be dancing on your grave when all is said and done.”

“And if you’re the one who has to do it?” Harry asked.

“Do what?”

“Kill me.” Draco blinked, settling back onto the couch and crossing his arms.

“Then I’ll do it,” he said in that bored tone, closing his eyes.

“You’d kill me,” Harry repeated, eyes narrowing.

“Yes, of course.”

“ _Kill_ , Malfoy.”

“I know. And I said I would. What’s the problem?” Draco asked, annoyed.

“You could actually kill me? Not hex, Malfoy, not throw a couple of punches, _kill_.” Harry actually sounded curious about the whole thing, which was throwing Draco for a loop.

“Yes, kill, Potter. End your life, send you to the other side, murder, destroy, _exterminate_ …how else would you like me to put it?”

“What if he doesn’t just want it done the easy way?” Harry asked, leaning forward slightly. “Voldemort’s stupid like that. I could probably be dead five times over if he’d just use the Killing Curse.”

“Well that’s a bit morbid, Potter, no need to sound so disappointed,” Draco said slowly.

“Shut up,” Harry said off-handedly. “What if he told you that you had to…to torture me or something? What if you had to look me in the eye as you cut off each of my limbs? Had to drain all the blood from my body and finally stab out my eyes just as they were going dim?” Draco was staring at him with a stunned expression. Harry sheepishly noted that he might have gotten a bit carried away.

“Merlin, Potter, what the bloody- No. He wouldn’t do something like that, there’s no… You just have some serious issues.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Harry shrugged. Draco’s mouth worked uselessly for a second, before he snapped it shut and shook his head rapidly.

“No. No, I’m not listening to you,” he said calmly, eyes squeezing shut. “This is _exactly_ what Pansy was hoping for and- _no_ , it’s _not_ going to work.”

“Pansy was hoping I’d tell you how Voldemort would torture me?” Harry asked in confusion.

“What- No! No, shut up, Potter, that’s not what I was talking about. Look, are we going to get started? Why am I here?” Draco asked impatiently.

“Oh,” Harry said hesitantly, biting his lip slightly. “You…you want to know what I had in mind?”

“No, I just came for the company,” Draco drawled sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, then,” Harry exhaled slowly. He turned around and starting digging through his things, emerging triumphant with the jar in his hands. “Catch,” he said, and tossed it at the Slytherin. Draco caught it easily, frowning as he peered at the label. Harry could tell when realization dawned because Draco’s eyes widened drastically. He hunched over slightly, still staring at the lube.

“You’re serious?” he finally asked, not looking at Harry. “You want to actually…go all the way?”

“Well I don’t _want_ to,” Harry said, defensively. “You’re the one who said you had no idea how far they would take the dares and all that.” Draco made a noncommittal sound, turning the container in his hands.

“Ok,” he said, sitting up straight and placing the jar on the table. “Ok, we’ll…we’ll do this. Right. Best to be prepared.” Draco swallowed, taking deep breaths. “I…I suppose you wanted to top, right?” Harry hadn’t actually thought that far ahead, and his brow furrowed as the issue came up. “You _don’t_ want to top...” Draco said slowly, misinterpreting his silence. “Good, because I do-”

“I didn’t even say anything!” Harry interrupted shrilly.

“Too late, Potter! You had your chance-”

“I’m not going to _bottom_ for you, Malfoy-”

“I told you weeks ago I wasn’t the bottom in this relationship!” Draco insisted, finally turning to face Harry. His eyes narrowed. “You aren’t fucking me, Potter!” That rather left Harry at a lost for words, because he’d been dutifully _not_ thinking about any of the specifics and the thought of _fucking_ anything brought up all sorts of mental images that really weren’t helping.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing!” he said eventually, grabbing at straws now.

“Oh, and you do?” Draco retorted.

“ _I_ sleep in the same room as _Seamus_ ,” Harry said smugly. “He likes to try and slip us advice when we least expect it.” This wasn’t necessarily true; Harry was pretty sure _he_ was the only one of his dorm mates Seamus had tried helping out. But saying otherwise had the desired effect, because now Malfoy was looking slightly unsure of himself.

“I…how about we both top?” Harry didn’t even want to _try_ and figure out how that would work.

“Is that even possible?” he asked instead, nose wrinkling. Draco stared at him as if he’d just sprouted wings.

“I meant take turns, you idiot,” he all but growled.

“Oh. Of course,” Harry laughed nervously. “Wait. You mean like…I go first…and then you top next.” Draco nodded. “And both tonight.” Draco nodded again. “Can we do that?”

“Why couldn’t we?”

“I…I don’t know…” They stared blankly at each other for a few seconds before Harry glanced off to the side, scratched the back of his head, and laughed nervously again. Draco rolled his eyes in response.

“Shut up, Potter. Let’s get on with it; the sooner we’re done, the better.” With that, Draco stood abruptly and pulled off his shirt. Harry stared at him wide-eyed. “Oh, for Salazar’s sake, Potter! It’s not like you haven’t already seen me naked!” Harry made an odd gurgling sound and blinked a couple of times.

“Er…r-right. Right. Of course,” he stuttered, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. Draco made a vaguely disgusted sound in the back of his throat and shucked off his trousers. Then he paused, swallowing.

“Would you hurry up?” he snapped. There was a slight waver in his voice, and that was all it took for Harry to gain back some of his confidence. Nodding, he stood and jerkily pulled his shirt off. He shivered as the cool air brushed against his skin, and shaky fingers undid the zipper on his jeans. All too soon he and Draco were once again staring at each other blankly, clad in only their boxers. Harry took a tentative step towards the other boy, arm reaching out, and Draco jumped back violently.

“Don’t,” he said simply. “We’re fucking, ok, Potter? That’s it. Just fucking. None of that other wishy-washy stuff. Just…let’s just do it and be done.”

“No strings attached type of thing?” Harry asked. He swallowed, nodding at the same time. “I figured as much. It’s not like I was expecting anything else.” There was a bitter edge to his voice and he wasn’t sure where it had come from, but he ignored it, swallowing again and turning to look around the room. “I guess we’ll finally be putting the bed to use,” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Like hell we are,” was Draco’s stiff reply. He’d moved to stand next to Harry, and Harry could practically feel the tension radiating off of him.

“Why not?” Harry asked, confused.

“I’m _not_ having sex with you on a bed,” Draco said, as if it were an obvious thing. “ _Couples_ have sex on beds. Hell, people who _tolerate_ each other have sex on beds.”

“We’ve been sort of tolerating each other,” Harry felt the need to point out. Draco glared at him.

“You’re not fucking me on a bed!” he shouted.

“Alright, fine!” Harry conceded. “Too normal for you, I suppose.” Draco stomped up to him and jabbed a finger at his chest, cheeks flaring with color. He opened his mouth to say something before apparently noticing their sudden proximity to each other, and he jumped back instead, crossing his arms and glowering.

“Can we just get on with it?” he asked in a slightly desperate tone. Harry finally realized how much he’d been stalling for time.

“Oh. Yeah. Of course,” he said quietly, and fell to his knees, peering up at the blond. “Lie down, then.” Draco made a choking sound, eyes widening.

“On my back?” he asked. “I’m not doing this on my _back_. I’m not some bloody girl, Potter.” Harry sighed exasperatedly and refrained from pointing out how it was Draco who was putting things off now.

“Would you just hurry up?” he snapped instead. “How do you want to do it then, on all fours?”

“I… That is… Yes, ok, hands and knees,” Draco agreed, nodding a little too vigorously. “Right…” He slowly lowered himself to the floor, looking extremely uncomfortable, and sat cross-legged instead.

“Where are we doing it?” Harry asked.

“Here’s fine.”

“Uh, not in front of the fireplace. That probably won’t work.”

“Why not?”

“Well…I don’t want to, you know, push you into it or something…”

“Oh. Right.” Draco crawled a bit closer to the bed, and Harry grabbed the lube before following. “Here?”

“Yeah, that’ll work.” Harry took his time unscrewing the cap on the jar. He sniffed the substance inside warily, while Draco fingered the top of his boxers. “You think you’ll get rug burn?”

“I don’t much care,” Draco replied sullenly. There were more seconds of awkward silence as neither boy was really inclined to move towards the other. “Potter?” the blond spoke up quietly. Harry looked at him. “It’s supposed to hurt, right?” Harry hesitated, before nodding.

“Seamus said to make sure you’re stretched out before…er…” Draco’s head shot up.

“Stretched out?” he repeated incredulously. “What the fuck does- Wait, and when were you- Does he _know_ -”

“No!” Harry interrupted quickly. “No, he doesn’t…doesn’t _know_ … Well, actually, I think he had an idea it might happen… He was the one who gave me the lube.”

“He gave you the lube,” Draco said slowly, before groaning. “Oh, _Merlin_.”

“Malfoy, we don’t _have_ to do this, you know,” Harry offered tentatively.

“Fuck that,” Draco scoffed. “We’re already this far, you’re not getting out of it that easily!” Harry grinned slightly.

“Shall we start then?” he asked, before swiftly removing his boxers. Draco glanced at him and flushed slightly, before taking off his own boxers.

“Ok,” Draco said shakily.

“Ok?”

“Yeah.” Draco moved slowly onto his knees and then planted his hands on the ground. He exhaled loudly, and Harry could see his face turning pink. “I think this is the most humiliating position I’ve ever been in,” Draco mumbled, and Harry couldn’t help chuckling slightly.

“Well it’s not as if I’m going to tell anyone,” he said lightly, moving into position behind the blond. He glanced down at Draco, head down and legs spread open for him, and he was almost horrified to feel his cock twitch in response. Biting his lip slightly, Harry coated his fingers in the gel-like substance and put the jar down next to him. He placed a hand gently on Draco’s back and felt nearly every muscle in the boy’s body tense up. “Seamus said…um, he said to get at least two fingers…in…before anything else. Actually he said to try for three, but definitely two-”

“ _Fingers?_ ” Draco asked, still staring hard at the ground.

“Um, yeah. To stretch you out.”

“Oh God.”

“You’ll be fine,” Harry said, in an attempt to reassure the other boy. Draco merely flicked him off over his shoulder. “Right then. Um, I’ll just…um, start.” The Slytherin nodded and tensed once more. Harry bit his lip again, moved his finger to Draco’s puckered entrance, paused slightly, and then pushed inside. Draco made an odd sound in the back of his throat, and Harry pushed deeper. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” Draco gasped out. “Yeah I’m fine.”

“Does it hurt yet?”

“No, it’s fine. Keep going.” Harry nodded even though he knew Draco wouldn’t see it, and added a second slicked finger. Harry felt Draco clench around him and he rubbed the boy’s back gently until he relaxed again. The Gryffindor then began making scissoring motions with his fingers, and Draco squeaked.

“Still ok?”

“Mhmm,” was Draco’s strained reply. Harry could tell he was indeed _not_ ok, but decided to add a third finger anyway, vaguely wondering how the hell this was actually working. It looked really uncomfortable.

But it was also really tight…and hot… Harry could feel himself hardening more as he thought about it and he withheld a groan.

“Ow! Fuck, Potter, what the hell are you doing?” Draco exclaimed shrilly as Harry was pushing his third finger in.

“Malfoy, I haven’t even gotten three fingers all the way in-“

“Fuck that, Potter, two’s enough!”

“But it’s going to hurt even more if-“

“No! You said Finnigan said _at least two_ and you GOT the two in so stop it with the third!”

“Malfoy,” Harry murmured, pressing his fingers in further.

“Jesus-FUCK. Bloody fucking hell, stop already!” Draco demanded, lurching forward and looking back over his shoulder to glare at the other boy. Harry sighed and pulled his hand back, listening to Draco breathing rapidly.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” he said quietly.

“Just…I’m ready, it’s fine,” Draco said shakily, turning back around.

“You’re sure?”

“ _Yes_ , get on with it!” Draco insisted. Harry swallowed and began slathering lube over his cock. Amazed that he was even hard enough to do this, he lined himself up with Draco’s arse and pushed in about an inch, before the blond tightened up and gasped. “Wait,” he said in a choked voice, and Harry paused, swallowing and doing his best to remain in control. He was barely even in the other boy and already the sensations running through him were overwhelming. Sighing, Harry leaned over Draco’s back and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Alright…ok,” Draco said, relaxing marginally. Harry, breathing deeply by this point, slid in a little more. “Fuck! Wait, wait!” Harry couldn’t stop the groan from leaving his throat, and he stilled with great difficulty.

“It’s so tight,” he moaned. Draco let out a slightly hysterical sounding laugh. “Can I-“

“No,” was the immediate reply. “No, wait.”

“Malfoy, you _have_ to relax.”

“Shut the fuck up, Potter,” Draco squeaked out. Harry sighed, resting his forehead against Draco’s sweaty shoulder. He pressed his lips to the skin there, tongue darting out to lap at the slightly salty beads of sweat, and Draco jerked. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked incredulously, head turning back to look at him. Harry, in his usual Gryffindor way of rushing into things and dealing with the consequences later, took advantage of Draco’s distraction and thrust forward, fully impaling his cock within the blond. Draco’s whole body jolted as if he’d been shocked, and he collapsed forward onto his forearms, crying out. It belatedly occurred to Harry that maybe Slytherins weren’t all about meeting things head on. “Holy-…fuck…bloody fucking…oh my God,” Draco said in between gasps. Harry tried saying something soothing in return, but suddenly being fully sheathed in the tight, oh _Merlin_ , so tight, hot body beneath left him breathless. He eyes were squeezed shut and he could feel Draco shuddering around him. He could barely find it in him to draw in air and it was hard not to just lose all his inhibitions and pound furiously into the Slytherin.

“I’m sorry,” Harry finally gasped. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Malfoy, are you ok?”

“Fuck no I’m not ok!” Draco all but screeched. “God _DAMN_!” Harry tightened his hold around Draco’s waist and kissed his shoulder lightly again. “Stop that!” Draco snapped, voice still wavering, and Harry went back to just resting his forehead there instead. Draco drew in one more shuddering breath and then slowly pushed himself back up onto his hands. “Ok. Ok, I’m ready. But go _slowly_ , damn it!”

Harry was more than ready to get on with the whole thing, but he honestly wasn’t sure how long he was going to last. He pulled back nearly all the way and thrust as slowly as he could back in again, hearing Draco grunt and feeling muscles clench around him. It was so unbelievably tight and the lube made it slick as he thrust again, feeling the tightening of his balls. Harry groaned against Draco’s shoulder and gritted his teeth. He could feel the blond shaking slightly beneath him. He drove forward again, hard, even though he hadn’t meant to but the need to be completely inside was overwhelming and he didn’t think it was possible to be pressed any closer to the other boy than he was right now. Readjusting his grip around Draco’s hips, Harry turned his face to the side so his cheek slid against the blond’s shoulder every time he moved.

Draco was shuddering and gasping each time Harry pounded into him, and he didn’t think his arms were going to hold up much longer. He tried concentrating on anything else; the fire off to the side, the pattern of the carpet beneath his straining hands, but nothing was able to distract him from the burning and the stretching of Harry pushing farther into him each time. It hurt, _fuck_ it hurt, but Draco ground his teeth together and sucked in rapid breaths, trying to ignore the panicked thought that Harry was ripping a new hole in his arse each time he rammed into him. He focused instead on the drops of liquid that dripped off his nose and landed with a small splash on his hand and he insisted to himself it was sweat from his forehead. He ignored the burning that was also occurring behind his eyes. Harry thrust against him again and Draco couldn’t stop the strangled cry from leaving his throat.

He was so close. Harry could feel it, he was _right there_ and he didn’t know whether to be embarrassed that it took so short a time for him to get off or to be relieved that Malfoy wasn’t going to have to suffer through much more of this apparently very painful experience. His hips slammed forward again and Harry came with a loud yell, his eyes squeezed shut, trying to ignore the spasm that shot through Draco’s body. Instead he felt the sensations sweeping through him like a burning hot spark and he thrust forward weakly one last time before collapsing onto the blond and riding out his orgasm. Harry was panting heavily and he knew he should probably move off of Draco but the room was going blotchy before his eyes and he couldn’t concentrate on anything but the pleasure still pooled in his groin. It was only when Draco left out a sharp, disgruntled sound that Harry snapped back into awareness.

“Oh, _fuck_ , Malfoy, are you alright?” he asked quickly, sitting up and pulling out of the blond with messy popping sound. He wanted to look down but quite honestly he was afraid to, so he opted for making sure the other boy was still alive first. “Malfoy?” Harry asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” Draco replied, his voice an odd, strangled sound. He sat up slowly, gingerly tucking his legs under him, and winced. Harry saw his watery eyes and pointedly did not look at the trails running down his cheeks. “I’m fine,” he repeated, but Harry could see him reaching behind himself as if searching for a wound. Of course, when he brought his hand back around and it was covered with something sticky and tinged _pink_ , Harry panicked.

“Oh my God, are you bleeding?!” he asked, eyes widening.

“Apparently…” Draco replied slowly, as if not quite sure of what he was seeing. He absentmindedly wiped his hand across the carpet, eying Harry. “I’m fine,” he said for a third time, and now Harry really didn’t believe him.

“Let me see,” he demanded, and this time Draco’s eyes widened.

“No!” he protested, but Harry wasn’t about to listen to him and with a quick shove the blond was on his back. Scowling, he kicked a leg at Harry. “Bloody hell, Potter, get the fuck away from me!” he exclaimed.

“But…” Harry said uncertainly.

“It’s _fine_ ,” Draco insisted, grimacing slightly as he sat back up.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Harry asked nervously.

“How the hell should I know?” Draco sneered, glaring at nothing in particular. “I’m not a fucking girl, as I’ve told you.” Harry ‘hmmed’ and Draco began shifting around awkwardly. There was a few seconds pause in which Harry stared apprehensively at Draco and Draco stared at anything in the room that wasn’t Harry.

“I’m really sorry, Malfoy,” Harry finally said again, and the blond sighed in exasperation.

“I said I was fine, didn’t I?” he snapped agitatedly. “Just drop it.”

“It hurt a lot, right?” asked Harry nervously. Draco just looked at him blankly.

“No, I thought it was pleasant,” he replied sarcastically. Harry winced.

“That bad?”

“It was bloody awful.” Harry scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“Seamus says it feels good.”

“Well _Seamus_ is a fucking fag. He’s probably got an extra queer gene or something.”

“Malfoy!” Harry only held his glare for about two seconds before he sighed and shrugged. “Whatever. Ok, so are we doing this again?” Draco looked surprised.

“You mean you’ll actually still let me fuck you?” he asked. Harry swallowed nervously.

“Well, we made a deal, didn’t we? And anyway, you didn’t-“ Harry paused suddenly, and his eyes widened. “Oh, shit! You didn’t come! Oh my God, I didn’t even think about- Fuck, I’m horrible at this! Merlin, I’m so sorry, Malfoy!” Draco actually had the audacity to laugh at him.

“Potter, I don’t think anything you could have done would have made me come,” he said simply. Harry frowned.

“Well it might have at least made it better,” he mumbled.

“True.”

“…Anyway…” Harry stood suddenly and nearly fell right back down as his legs quivered beneath his weight. Instead he stumbled back a few steps and sat on the edge of the bed. “Oy, apparently sex uses up a lot of energy,” he said off-handedly, scooting backwards and making himself comfortable amongst all the pillows. Draco stood carefully on his own wobbly legs and shuffled over to stand at the foot of the bed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Getting ready. Grab the lube, will you?”

“…And you’re on the bed why?”

“Because this is where we’re doing it,” Harry said shrugging. “Maybe you didn’t want it like this but I have a feeling it’ll probably be a hell of a lot more comfortable.” Draco frowned but crawled onto the bed anyway and sat cross-legged beside Harry.

“And I suppose you’re going to do it on your back, too,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Yep.”

“You know, Potter…if you want, we can just do this tomorrow or something. If you really don’t want to do it right now.” Draco glanced off to the side as he spoke, shoulders hunching over just slightly.

“No, we made a deal. It’s fine,” Harry replied.

“It…it really hurts,” Draco said quietly, voice faltering a little.

“You survived. I think I will,” Harry insisted. “Malfoy, really, it’ll be ok.” Draco sighed.

“Alright. Do I have to stretch you out first?” he asked, sounding a bit disgusted.

“Oh yes, I trust Seamus on that one.”

“Could you stop bringing up bloody _Seamus?_ ” Draco snapped, turning to glare at Harry. Harry blinked.

“Um, I’m sorry?” Draco scowled and ignored him.

“I don’t think the finger thing is necessary,” he said instead. “Honestly, it didn’t do much to prevent any pain.”

“Well, you’re doing it anyway,” Harry replied, propping his feet up on the bed. Draco peered down at him, breathing harshly through his nose. “Oh for the love of- Fine, give it to me,” Harry said, thrusting a hand under Draco’s nose. The blond complied, looking curious, and handed over the container. He was highly unprepared, however, for the sight of Harry shoving his own well-lubricated finger up his own arse a few seconds later. Harry’s eyes widened and he let out a strangled squeaking sound, and Draco’s eyes widened in response as he watched. “Enjoying the view?” Harry asked faintly, slowly letting a second finger join the first and wincing slightly.

“Uhh…” Draco mumbled incoherently, hand unconsciously wrapping around his gradually hardening cock. Harry smirked slightly and let his head fall back onto the pillows. His hips arched up so that he could get a better angle and he heard Draco gasp as he spread his fingers apart. He jerked slightly, though, as a quick stab of pain shot through his lower parts, and stilled immediately. “Keep going,” Draco urged, tightening his hand.

“No,” Harry shook his head, swallowing. “No, screw it. Just get on with it.” Draco looked at him uncertainly.

“You’re sure?” he asked, moving in between Harry’s spread legs. The green-eyed boy nodded, belatedly yanking off his glasses and tossing them onto a nightstand that appeared out of nowhere. Draco scooped a large dollop of the lube into his hand and handed the jar to Harry to place on the nightstand as well.

“I see you’re looking forward to this,” Harry said shakily as Draco slathered on the gel-like substance and worked himself up even more.

“Weren’t you?”

“I…yeah, I guess.”

“Tell me it’s good from this end,” Draco said suddenly, looking at Harry urgently. “You liked it, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded at once. “Yeah, it was amazing. It…yeah.” Draco smirked.

“Good,” he replied, and went about lining himself up. “Give me a pillow.”

“What? Why?” Harry asked, handing him one nonetheless.

“Better angle,” Draco said simply. “Lift up.” Harry complied, and Draco tucked the pillow under his lower back. As he was settling back down, the reality of the situation finally seemed to sink in. He breathed in a shuddering way, blinking a few times, and felt Draco’s hands rest on his hips. “Ready?” the blond asked. Harry took a deep breath and nodded. Draco nodded back, exhaled, and then he was pressing forward and Harry was doing his best not flinch and tighten around the sudden intrusion into his body. “Fuck!” Draco gasped, and Harry could feel the slight quivers running through the boy’s body.

“Good?” he asked, voice wavering slightly.

“Oh, fuck yes!” Draco exclaimed, followed by a quick moan. He pushed in further and Harry couldn’t stop the pained sound he emitted as the burning started. He dug the heels of his hands against his eyes and gritted his teeth, feeling the other boy pause. “Are you alright?” Draco asked fearfully.

“Yeah. Yep. I’m ok. I’m fine,” Harry said quickly in a strained tone that was nearly an entire octave higher than usual.

“Liar,” Draco said softly, slowing pushing in even more and gasping again.

“Nggh,” was Harry’s strangled reply to that. He moved his hands from his face to grip at the headboard instead, and stared hard at the ceiling. His chest was heaving rapidly and there was already a slight sheen on it from sweat and he could feel Draco filling him at what suddenly seemed to be an unbearably slow rate. This slow, torturous pain wasn’t something Harry was too keen on and he would have greatly preferred to endure it all at once and be done with it. “Malfoy,” he panted raggedly, and the Slytherin glanced up at him, cheeks flushed with color. “Come here.” Draco’s eyebrows went up and he leaned forward so that their chests slid together. Harry noticed that he was breathing hard as well.

“What? You want me to stop?” he asked in between breaths. Harry shook his head, slowly crossing his legs behind Draco’s back.

“No,” he said quietly, and then lurched forward and firmly kissed Draco on the mouth. The boy’s eyes widened and he paused uncertainly. Harry took advantage of his stillness and rammed his hips upwards to meet Draco’s.

He regretted it almost immediately as red hot fire flashed through him.

Gasping loudly, he ripped his mouth away from Draco’s, vaguely hearing the boy’s startled yelp, and his hands dropped down to the pillows and clenched around the material so tightly he was surprised it didn’t rip. Draco was staring at him dazedly, eyes still wide and mouth slightly open.

“Fuck, Potter,” he finally managed to rasp, blinking a few times as pleasure surged through his body. He was completely torn between continuing immediately because it felt so incredibly good, or stopping to make sure Harry wasn’t on the verge of a painful death or something. “Bloody hell, are you- Why the fuck-” Making a quick decision, Draco went to pull out, looking worried, but Harry’s hands were suddenly gripping his biceps and his legs tightened behind his back..

“Don’t you dare move,” he panted, looking the boy straight in the eye. “Just give me a second.” Draco nodded slowly and Harry dropped his head back onto the pillows, taking deep breaths. He stayed still for a few minutes, trying to adjust to Draco’s length within him. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, just being _filled_ like this, and he began to think that maybe it wouldn’t be quite as bad as Draco had made it out to be. “Ok, I’m ready,” he said. Draco nodded, pulling back and then thrusting in slowly, and Harry immediately changed his mind and concluded that it was one of the worst things he’d ever decided to rush into.

“Oh God!” Draco gasped, plunging forward again. Harry chanced a look up at him, and Draco peered blurrily back down on him through the locks of hair that fell into his eyes.

“I told you it was good,” the Gryffindor croaked, grimacing as he was rocked back and nearly into the headboard.

“And I told you it wasn’t,” Draco retorted with a slam of his hips, and a strangled moan escaped him.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” The blond looked like he was attempting to sneer down at Harry, but other emotions were battling heavily for a place on his face and pure bliss looked like it was winning. Harry just stuck his tongue out at him, before his eyes widened and he squeaked as Draco thrust in once more and sent something that was decidedly _not_ painful sweeping through him.

“Wait! Stop!” he exclaimed, surprised, and Draco groaned as he reluctantly stilled. “What the hell did you just do?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Potter,” Draco huffed, eyes squeezing shut as he concentrated on not moving.

“Well…do it again.” Draco breathed a sigh of relief and pushed forward. “Ow! Fuck, not that!” Harry cried. Draco ground his teeth together and tried thrusting at a slightly different angle. Harry gasped loudly beneath him. “Oh God! Yeah, that. Do that again.” The blond blinked and thrust again. He was rewarded with another gasp that was closely followed by a short groan.

“Do you _like_ that?” Draco asked incredulously.

“ _YES_ ,” Harry gasped. He didn’t know what it was, but it felt incredible.

“Fuck, you’re actually getting hard again!” Draco exclaimed in shock.

“Just keep hitting whatever the hell you’re hitting,” Harry ordered, arms coming up to wrap around Draco’s neck and pull him closer. The boy moved again and Harry groaned loudly. It was an odd feeling, actually, because he could still feel the uncomfortable stretching beneath the sharp pleasure that was shooting through his body, but he figured he could deal with the pain as long as he got to experience this new form of gratification. “Harder, Malfoy! Oh God, fuck, _harder!_ ”

Draco was beginning to lose himself again to the wonders of having sex, but he managed to comply nonetheless, shoving harder and consequently faster into the suddenly willing body beneath him. One of Harry’s arms dropped from his neck and his hand wrapped around his now dripping cock, pulling in time with Draco’s thrusts. It didn’t take much more for Harry to get off, what with the combined pleasure of his own hand in front and Draco behind, and he was soon coming for the second time that night with a scream that could probably rival a banshee’s. Draco thrust once more into Harry’s convulsing body and then he was coming himself with a sobbing gasp, before he collapsed onto the panting boy beneath him. Both remained silent for several minutes, as neither had the breath to talk, and they drifted in and out of consciousness, reveling in the afterglow of their activities. It was Harry who eventually broke the silence.

“Bloody hell, I’m _gay_ ,” he mumbled into Draco’s shoulder. The blond peeled himself off of Harry’s chest, ignoring the way their skin kind of stuck together, and peered down at him, frowning.

“No you’re not,” he said, brow furrowing.

“Well I have to be, don’t I?” Harry asked, pursing his lips. “I _enjoyed_ that.”

“You’re not gay,” Draco repeated, pulling out of Harry and falling onto his back beside him. Harry turned on his side, wincing at the soreness of his backside, and looked curiously at the Slytherin.

“Why not?” he asked. Draco glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Because I didn’t just have sex with a gay bloke,” he answered.

“But you did have sex with a guy,” Harry felt the need to point out.

“Obviously.”

“So what’s the difference between two straight guys having sex and one straight guy and one gay guy having sex? It’s still two guys.”

“Potter, you are _not_ gay,” Draco insisted tiredly, closing his eyes.

“I might be,” Harry said, rather petulantly.

“Do you _want_ to be gay?” the blond asked. Harry opened his mouth to reply, and then paused.

“Well, _no_ , but… How else do you explain what just happened?”

“Yes, about that,” Draco murmured, crossing his arms behind his head and stretching his legs out in front of him. “You realize we’re going to have to do this again, right?”

“We are?” Harry asked, belatedly realized he might have sounded just a bit too happy about that. If Draco noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“Well yes,” he replied instead. “I mean, of course it figures that I have to suffer through one of the most painful experiences of my life, and _you_ …you, the bloody boy-who-lived, you have to go and actually _like_ it! It’s completely unfair.” Harry laughed in slight disbelief.

“You’re serious?” he asked.

“Most definitely.”

“I hope you weren’t expecting to do it again tonight, because I think I’ll have a hard enough time finding the energy to walk back to my common room,” Harry said, turning onto his back again. He absentmindedly used the blanket they were laying on to wipe the spunk off his stomach.

“Fuck no, I don’t think I could endure that again tonight, even if it _does_ feel good.”

“I wonder if I did something wrong,” Harry said thoughtfully. “I’m really sorry it hurt so badly.”

“Didn’t it hurt for you?” Draco asked curiously.

“Merlin, yes. At first. I just didn’t whine about it so much.” Harry had to quickly roll away to dodge the pillow that Draco whipped at him. “Alright, I’m heading out,” he laughed, moving to the edge of the bed and pushing himself into a standing position. He faltered on the first step he took, however, and collapsed onto his hands and knees.

“What the fuck was that?” Draco asked quickly, hurriedly moving to the foot of the bed to see what had happened. Harry looked at him with wide eyes.

“Can you hand me my glasses?” Draco handed them over, raising an eyebrow as Harry slowly put them on.

“Did you trip over something?” he asked.

“No,” Harry answered slowly. “No, but I think I just sprained like fifty muscles that I didn’t even know I had. Bloody hell.”

“Oh,” Draco nodded in understanding.

“You feel the same way?” Draco nodded again. “God, Malfoy, how’d you even walk from the floor to the bed?” he asked, sounding almost awed. Draco could only shrug helplessly. “My dorm’s not that far,” Harry continued thoughtfully, “but you have to go all the way down to the dungeons. Maybe you should just stay here tonight.”

“I’m a Prefect, Potter. If anyone catches me I’ll just say I was doing rounds or something,” Draco said flatly. Harry raised an eyebrow.

“In your pajamas,” he stated.

“Oh. Right.”

“And no one will wonder why you’re crawling along at a snail’s pace?”

“I think I’ll be able to walk a bit faster than that, thank you,” Draco said dryly. Harry sighed, pushing himself to his feet again, and wobbled a bit before finding his balance. He started pulling on his clothes, moving gingerly the whole time. Draco eventually began doing the same. Once they were both fully clothed again, they faced each other awkwardly. Then Draco nodded once and started walked stiffly towards the door.

“Malfoy, wait,” Harry called resignedly after him. Draco turned slightly. “Take this.” Draco blinked, reaching out to accept the bundle of cloth Harry was handing him. He shook it out, and his eyes immediately widened when he saw what it was.

“Potter,” he breathed, swinging the cloak around his shoulders and watching as his body disappeared from sight. “I knew it!” Draco exclaimed. “I knew it, I _knew_ you had to have one of these!” He laughed faintly, and Harry grinned at him.

“It was my dad’s,” he said, and Draco’s eyes went round with shock. “I want it back tomorrow, mind, but…you can use it tonight.” Draco was still blinking owlishly at him.

“You’d trust me with this?” he asked in disbelief. Harry shrugged, glancing away.

“Well I have blackmail on you, don’t I?” he pointed out. Draco scoffed at him.

“That goes two ways,” he smirked.

“Yeah well… Don’t use it for anything bad, ok?” Harry said sternly. Draco’s smirk widened a bit.

“Of course not,” he said cheerfully. Harry bit his lip uncertainly, and then nodded.

“Alright. You’d better bring it to Potions with you!” he warned.

“Right, because that won’t look suspicious or anything.”

“Malfoy!”

“Ok, fine, I’ll bring it to Potions.” Draco was barely able to hold down his grin by this point, so he turned abruptly and moved towards the door. Harry sighed and followed him, checking to make sure he still had his wand and the lube.

“And so ends the night I lost my virginity,” he murmured, and Draco whipped around to stare at him.

“Ew, don’t say it like that,” he hissed, as if someone was possibly hanging around and listening to them.

“Why not?” Harry blinked.

“Because it sounds weird.” Harry blinked again, and then smiled.

“Goodnight, Malfoy,” he chuckled, turning to head towards the Gryffindor common room. He heard a mumbled response and turned to walk backwards for a bit, but Draco had already donned the Invisibility Cloak and Harry could only tell he was there because he could hear the shuffling footsteps moving away from him. Grinning slightly, Harry faced front again.

It took him a lot longer to walk back to the tower that night than usual.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry hadn’t thought anyone would be able to tell what he and Draco had done the night before.

Apparently he’d momentarily forgotten that Seamus was one of his roommates.

“Hang on a minute, Harry,” the Irish boy said, grabbing Harry’s sleeve early the next morning as the Gryffindor boys were heading down to breakfast. Ron turned to look at him curiously, and Dean and Neville paused a bit farther down the hall. “Go on you lot, we’ll be right behind you!” Seamus continued with shooing gesture. Ron frowned doubtfully, but went on his way without saying anything. There were a few seconds of unbearably awkward silence as Seamus eyed him thoughtfully. Or at least Harry considered them awkward. He could feel his face burning, and he nervously adjusted the shoulder strap on his bag. “So, Harry-”

“Nothing happened,” the green-eyed boy immediately blurted. Seamus blinked and chuckled.

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” he grinned. “Don’t give me that! It’s like holding up a sign that says ‘ _MALFOY FUCKED ME!_ ’” Harry yanked his arm away from Seamus and cast quick glances up and down the hall.

“You want to say that a little louder?” he hissed, and Seamus’ grin widened. Harry groaned. “How the hell did you know?” he asked in slight shock.

“You’re walking funny,” the boy answered. Harry frowned. He’d thought he’d been hiding the slight twinge he felt every time he took a step rather well.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, a little worried. Seamus shook his head.

“No. Just…you’re a bit stiff looking, like you’re trying to hide a limp. Taking small steps. Stuff like that. I’ve been there, I know what it looks like.” Seamus paused. “Sooo…how was it?” he then asked innocently. Harry felt his blush return full force, and he turned to walk quickly down the hall. “No, Harry, come back!” the sandy-haired boy chuckled, running after him and grabbing his sleeve again. “I’m sorry! I was just curious.” Harry sighed.

“It was…er, it wasn’t bad,” he answered, refusing to look at the other boy. A small smile graced his lips. Seamus smirked.

“Not bad, eh?” Harry’s blush deepened even further. “How much pain was there?”

“A lot,” Harry answered honestly. “Especially for Malfoy. He hated it the whole time. But I only hated about half of it. Actually, I was wondering-“

“Whoa, wait, back up!” Seamus interrupted, brow furrowing. “He didn’t like topping?”

“Oh, no, he _liked_ topping. He didn’t like bottoming, but I think that was my fault-”

“You both topped _and_ bottomed?” Seamus cut in again. He looked a little surprised, and then laughed slightly. “Only you two would do that. What, were you fighting over who got to fuck the other first?”

“Er…yeah,” Harry replied sheepishly, grinning a little. “But it was really bad for Malfoy. Is there…um, I mean, purely out of curiosity, of course, but…why was it so bad for him? Is there something I was doing wrong? I mean it felt incredible when he was…and I…well it was-“

“Harry, shut up,” Seamus laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulder. He began steering him towards the Great Hall. “I think you and I need to have a little conversation about what feels good for blokes.”

* * *

Draco sauntered into the Great Hall quite a while after his fellow Slytherins and he noticed immediately ( _not_ , of course, that he was looking for him or anything) that Harry wasn’t there. A quick glance up and down the Gryffindor table showed that the only other person missing who Draco particularly cared about was Seamus.

He scowled.

“Why the grumpy look, Draco?” Pansy asked as he carefully sat down beside her. Crabbe scooted over to make room and offered him a platter of toast. Draco took a few slices, not really paying attention, and began picking at the crusts. His eyes didn’t leave the doors of the Great Hall.

“I don’t feel very well,” he finally answered shortly, after he realized Pansy was staring at him and waiting for an answer. Draco had been talking to her again lately, though not as openly as he used to, simply because he didn’t want to go the rest of the school year without talking to any of his House mates.

“Are you sick?” Pansy asked quickly, trying to press a hand to his forehead. Draco reared back from her touch and frowned at her. “You can’t be sick, we have Potions this morning,” she continued, unperturbed.

“Yeah, Potions,” Draco repeated idly, thinking about Harry’s Invisibility Cloak tucked away in his bag. It had actually come in very handy last night, because he’d passed Filch three different times on his way to the dungeons. He wasn’t sure how that had been accomplished, actually, but he chalked it up to the fact that it had just taken him forever to get back to his common room. Getting down the stairs had been hell…

“Well look who finally decided to come to breakfast,” Pansy said, all too innocently, and Draco’s eyes were immediately drawn to the doors and the people who had just walked through them. Harry, of course, and-

Draco glowered.

And Seamus.

Draco could only stand to glare at them for all of ten seconds, and it only took two of those seconds for him to notice one very crucial piece of information.

Finnigan _knew_.

Draco wanted to die. It was so obvious that he knew. From the sheepish way Harry was carrying himself to the way Seamus had his arm around his shoulder with that stupid, smug, almost _proud_ look on his face. And Harry was blushing. And Seamus was waving his hand about wildly like he was trying to _explain_ something. The two boys separated from each other as they sat down, and Harry offered cheerful greetings to his two sidekicks, and Draco finally looked away, concentrating on his plate and the mutilated pieces of toast on it instead.

And suddenly he really did feel sick.

“You’re right, Pansy, I think I am sick,” Draco said suddenly, standing up and pushing away from the table. “Tell Professor Snape I couldn’t come to class today because I’m ill.” With that he grabbed his bag and was out the door, ignoring Pansy’s calls for him to come back.

He was halfway back to his common room when he changed his mind. After all, he’d promised Harry he’d return his cloak to him in Potions, hadn’t he? And while Draco didn’t really care too much whether he kept his promises or not, this one he wasn’t going to break.

Smirking, Draco changed directions and headed towards the Potions classroom. Harry was so proud he gotten to fuck him, eh? He’d just _had_ to go and tell Seamus, hmm?

Well Draco was going to make him regret _that_.

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed when he entered Potions was that Draco wasn’t there, which consequently meant that his Invisibility Cloak wasn’t either.

The second thing he noticed was that there wasn’t a list of potions ingredients on the board. Instead there was an underlined heading and some dates and random names.

Groaning, Harry realized that today would solely be a note-taking day, and those types of days were almost worse than the days when they made potions. On these days, Snape was more likely to call on unsuspecting students to answer bits of information they were apparently supposed to know from the reading they were probably supposed to have done. It was these days where Gryffindor tended to lose half of their hard-earned points.

It was probably about twenty minutes into the lecture when the door creaked slightly open. But since no one came through it and this wasn’t exactly an irregular occurrence at Hogwarts, no one thought much of it.

Harry was bored. Ron, sitting on one side of him, looked like he was about to fall asleep, and had this been a lecture in Binns’ class it was likely that he’d already be snoring. Hermione, on his other side, was studiously writing down every single word that Snape said, and then some. And her notes were color-coded. How she found time to switch between different colors of ink _and_ copy down everything that Snape droned about was beyond Harry. His own notes were barely legible, and he knew he’d be borrowing Hermione’s later anyway so he was almost tempted to not even bother- _holySHIT_ , what the HELL was touching his legs?!

Startled out of his mind, Harry’s hand jerked to the side and he had to make a lunging grab for his ink bottle as it was nearly knocked off the table. Ron jumped slightly, as he’d finally started dozing off, and Hermione frowned at him.

“Problem, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked snidely, looking annoyed at the interruption.

“Uh, no, sorry, Professor,” Harry answered sheepishly, straightening his parchment. Snape frowned.

“Five points from Gryffindor for disturbing class,” he snapped, and then turned back to the board. Harry waited a moment so that he was sure no one paying him any attention, and then he shot a quick glance beneath the table. He could still feel something like _hands_ on his knees, so he wasn’t totally surprised when he saw Draco’s face smirking back up at him. It was a very odd sight, though, and suddenly Harry understood why Draco had been so freaked out at seeing his head floating around Hogsmeade in third year.

Harry opened his mouth to hiss at Draco and make him go away, but he remembered just in time that Hermione and Ron were both sitting on either side of him and would undoubtedly wonder why he was talking to something beneath the table.

So instead Harry panicked. Normally he wouldn’t mind having Draco between his legs (and that thought alone was fairly alarming), but under the circumstances, Harry really didn’t want to know what the Slytherin had planned. Shoving a hand in Draco’s face, he tried to push him away, but the boy was having none of that. Grabbing Harry’s hand, he pinned it down to the chair and smirked in that infuriating way again. Harry dutifully kept his other hand on top of the table lest people wondered what the hell he was doing under it that required _both_ of his hands.

When Draco suddenly reached for his zipper with his free hand, Harry could only bite his lip in resignation. He scooted his chair closer to the table so that his stomach pressed right up against the edge of it, and slumped lower in his chair. Ron grinned at him, obviously thinking he was going to nod off or something, and Harry gave him a pained smile in return. Then Draco had his cock free and was lightly stroking it, and the hand that Draco had pinned down was suddenly grabbing at the seat of his chair in a desperate attempt to anchor onto _something_. Harry gripped his quill tightly in his other hand.

Draco’s hot breath ghosted across his quickly hardening member, and Harry exhaled slowly. He could feel his toes curling in his shoes, and belatedly tried kicking the Slytherin away. He got as far as lifting his leg before Draco’s mouth was engulfing his cock and his leg kicked out at nothing rather than at the blond. Harry gasped, and the quill in his hand snapped.

“Mr. Potter,” Snape practically growled, and Harry looked at him in slight horror.

“Y-yes, sir?” he asked shakily. Hermione looked at him oddly, and he gave up holding the quill and grabbed the opposite end of the desk instead, hanging onto it like it was his lifeline.

“Do you _enjoy_ disrupting my class?” the professor asked silkily. Draco chuckled silently around Harry’s member, and that did nothing to help Harry. Every muscle in his legs tightened and he fought against the need to spread his legs further.

“N-n-no…s-sir,” he answered, face burning. Snape eyed him distastefully.

“Ten more points from Gryffindor,” he announced, and once again turned back to the board. Harry sighed in relief, even though Hermione was still staring at him.

“Are you ok?” she whispered. Harry, not trusting his voice by this point, nodded quickly at her. She looked doubtful, but quickly returned to her notes so that she wouldn’t miss anything. Breathing deeply and rapidly through his nose, Harry leaned back just slightly so he could get another look at Draco’s floating face. Draco somehow managed to smirk around his cock, and then sucked. Hard.

 _Fuck_.

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut and his knuckles turned white as they gripped the desk. Gritting his teeth, he couldn’t help the way one of his legs swung out and it bumped against Ron’s leg. His friend glanced at him, looking bored and probably thinking he was trying to get his attention, and then promptly did a double take.

“Mate, are you alright?” he asked quietly. Harry attempted to nod and shake his head at the same time, eyes still shut. God, when had Malfoy learned to do _that_ with his tongue? “Harry?” Great, now Ron looked worried.

“Mr. Weasley!” Snape bellowed. “Don’t make me take more points!”

“Sorry, sir,” Ron said quickly. Glancing at Harry again, he quickly pulled out his parchment and a quill and started writing. After a few seconds, he shoved it towards Harry and nudged him in the shoulder. Harry wrenched open his eyes and looked at it.

_What’s wrong??_

Accepting the quill Ron handed him, and damn near breaking it, as well, he tried writing down his answer, pausing mid-word as Draco suddenly decided to try and fondle his balls. It was all Harry could do not to come right there, which he absolutely refused to do in the middle of _class_. Plus, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to refrain from crying out.

_Nothing._

God, his writing had never looked so shaky. Harry wanted to laugh hysterically and Ron frowned at him.

 _Bullshit_.

Harry inhaled jerkily and blinked several times as the room started to blur out of focus.

_I’m fine!_

Draco sucked again and Harry really did break Ron’s quill that time. He sheepishly handed it back to him, and Ron’s eyebrows rose. Pulling out another quill, he scratched out a response.

_You realize you don’t tell me ANYTHING anymore?_

Harry did realize that. He was also aware that Ron would probably be horrified if he knew what was going on right next to him.

Of course maybe that would get him off his back… Biting his lip, Harry wrote another shaky answer.

_Are you sure you want to know?_

Ron blinked, brow furrowing. His hand hesitated above the parchment as he gave Harry a searching look, and then he started writing.

 _YES_.

Now Harry paused. Then he accidentally kicked Hermione as Draco mimicked the blowjob Harry had given him a couple weeks ago and actually tried _swallowing_ the entire length of his cock. Giving her an apologetic look, he paused again. And then…

_Malfoy’s giving me a blowjob right now._

It took a hell of a lot of effort writing out the full sentence, and he slapped down the quill when he was done and grabbed the edge of the table again, sucking in air. Ron glanced at the parchment and immediately donned a shell-shocked expression. Harry felt the need to laugh hysterically again. Blinking, Ron leaned back from the table to look down, but Harry grabbed his arm and shook his head rapidly. Frowning, Ron scooted his chair forward again, and then sat unnaturally still, aside from the nervous bouncing of his knees. Harry bit back a groan as Draco released his cock and breathed over it, sending shivers up his spine. He slumped lower in his chair, and Ron gave him a look that was somehow a mix between disgusted, intrigued, and amused, and picked up the quill.

Harry wanted to punch him.

_Why???_

Glancing exasperatedly at the parchment, Harry shook his head slightly and grabbed the quill.

_I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE!!!!! Bastard probably thinks it’s fu-_

He was unable to finish writing anything, because at that point Draco swallowed him again and Harry gave up. The quill dropped from between his fingers and he folded both arms across the top of the desk and slammed his head down on them. His body seized up and unable to hold it back any longer, Harry came, jerking and shuddering and he had a fist pressed against his mouth so that he wouldn’t scream. He felt a hand on his shoulder and recognized it as Hermione’s, who probably thought he was about to throw up or something.

But then it was over and Draco’s mouth was gone and hands were tucking him back into his pants. Sitting up quickly and breathing rapidly, Harry looked down at Draco and made sure to give him his best ‘I-hate-you-for-you-are-a-complete-and-utter-bastard’ glare. Draco smirked and patted his leg, before his face disappeared and Harry felt him leave completely. He watched the door but there was no way of telling if the Slytherin had exited or not, so he turned to Ron instead, ready to face his wrath.

The boy was grinning widely at him, like he was about to burst out with laughter.

Harry didn’t know if that was a good reaction or not, but it didn’t help the blush in his cheeks so he quickly turned away again. Hermione was still frowning at him, though she looked a little worried. Harry shrugged her off and dug around in his bag for yet another quill.

He spent the rest of the class dutifully taking notes and ignoring the way his hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead.

* * *

“So Harry,” Ron started to say as soon as class was over and everyone was gathering up their belongings.

“I don’t know, Ron,” Harry interrupted, answering his unasked question.

“But in the middle of _class_ -“

“I _know_ , Ron.”

“What the bloody hell was he thinking-

“I. Don’t. Know. Ron,” Harry said slowly and loudly with a pointed look at Hermione. The girl was looking at him strangely.

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” she asked as they walked out the door.

“I feel fine,” Harry answered airily, and Ron snorted. Before Harry could say anything in return, he felt something brushing against the back of his robes, and he stilled immediately. Ron and Hermione turned to look at him. “Um, I’ll meet you guys back up in the common room, I just remembered that I…uh, I forgot something…”

“Harry we have Transfigurations right now,” Hermione said slowly. Ron was peering knowingly into the empty air behind Harry.

“Well, I’ll be right there,” Harry said quickly, giving Ron a pleading look. The boy grinned and grabbed Hermione’s wrist.

“Come on, Hermione, he’ll meet us there. We’ll save you a seat, Harry!” Ron called as he dragged their friend off down the hall. Harry waited until they were out of sight, and then turned to glare at apparently nothing.

“I know you’re there, give me back my cloak!” he snapped, and Draco appeared suddenly with a flourish, handing the cloak over.

“Thanks for letting me borrow it,” he smirked. Harry continued glaring at him.

“What the hell was that?!” he finally yelled.

“That?” Draco asked innocently.

“Yes, _that_ ,” Harry spat. “In the middle of class?! What the fuck, Malfoy!!”

“You deserved it,” Draco replied in a low tone. Harry spluttered.

“What- _deserved_ it? What did I do to _deserve_ it?!”

“Spreading around what we did, maybe?” the blond said angrily, pinning his own glare on Harry now. The Gryffindor paused for a second, brow furrowing.

“I didn’t tell anyone-“

“ _Finnigan_ knew!!” Draco roared, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“Seamus _guessed!!_ ” Harry shouted back, arms waving wildly.

“You were _talking_ to him about it! I don’t want everyone knowing what we’re doing!!”

“HE WAS _EXPLAINING_ STUFF TO ME!!” Harry exploded, eyes squeezing shut. “And I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but-“

He was cut off when Draco kissed him, swallowing the rest of his yells which quickly turned in groans as Harry immediately responded, eyes shooting open for only second before they slowly closed again. His arms wrapped around the blond’s neck and drew him closer as Draco’s arms went behind his back, and their tongues met vigorously. Harry knew they were standing in the middle of a hallway that was most likely about to be filled with students coming down to Potions, but he couldn’t care less if anyone saw them right now.

They separated after a fairly short amount of time, breathing heavily and resting their foreheads against each other. They were still wrapped in each other’s arms.

“You know this angry kissing in the corridor thing?” Harry panted. “It’s really got to stop.” Draco nodded.

“Would you rather I punch you?” he asked. Harry chuckled.

“No,” he whispered. Draco backed away, straightening out his robes. Harry wiped his mouth absently

“I don’t appreciate you discussing _stuff_ with other people behind my back,” Draco groused, crossing his arms. Harry smiled a little. He decided it would be a bad idea if he told the Slytherin that Ron knew what had been going on in the Potions classroom.

“Well I’m sorry,” he said, hiding his grin. Draco sniffed haughtily.

“As you should be,” he replied, nose turning up slightly.

“That aside,” Harry said quickly as students began turning the corner. “When are we meeting again?” Draco blinked.

“Oh. Right,” he said, hesitantly.

“Do you still want to do it?”

“Yes,” Draco blurted, and then he looked like he wanted to kick himself. Harry laughed a little, but quieted when Draco glared at him.

“Tonight?” he asked.

“I have quidditch… Tomorrow?”

“ _I_ have quidditch.” They paused. “Thursday?” Harry asked, and he tried not to wonder why he sounded so put out. Draco frowned.

“Yeah, I guess we’ll wait until then,” he murmured. There were a few seconds of awkward silence as younger students continued walking past them. “Well, I have class…” Draco said slowly, turning away. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, and then took off down the hall, barely catching Draco’s startled look. “I’ll talk to you Thursday, Malfoy!” he called back to him, and then ran all the way to Transfigurations.

He got there late anyway.

* * *

When they returned to the common room later that afternoon, Ron wasted no time grabbing Harry by the arm and dragging him away to some deserted chairs.

“Ok, spill,” he said as soon as they sat down. Harry looked embarrassed.

“Spill what?” he asked, glancing away and twiddling his thumbs.

“Harry!” Ron said exasperatedly, and the green-eyed boy gave him a pained look.

“Ron, I really don’t think you want to know,” he said, almost desperately. Ron gave him a look.

“I do!” he insisted. “I want you to tell me these things! _I_ want to be the one who you go to, not Seamus!”

“Why is everybody jealous of Seamus?” Harry asked curiously, and Ron rolled his eyes.

“I’m not _jealous_ of him; I just wish you would tell me whatever you tell him! Even if I’m not…gay…and even if Malfoy’s not exactly my favorite person, I’d still like to know!”

“I’m not gay either,” Harry said quickly, and Ron looked blankly at him. “Well I mean…um…I don’t…I don’t _think_ I’m gay…” he amended, blushing a little. Ron continued to look at him. Harry crossed his arms stubbornly. It was so much easier doing this with Seamus…

“Harry…” Ron said in a threatening tone, and Harry sighed in exasperation.

“We…um, Malfoy and I-”

“Malfoy?” Ron cut in curiously. “You still call him that?”

“Well what else would I call him” Harry asked in confusion.

“Oh, I don’t know, _Draco_ , maybe?” Harry frowned thoughtfully.

“I’ve called him ‘Malfoy’ for five and half years…I think I forgot he actually had a first name…” Ron laughed, gesturing with his hand for Harry to continue.

“Go on, go on,” he said in amusement.

“Right. Well…we…um…”

“Are you going out?” Ron prompted.

“No!” Harry exclaimed quickly, brow furrowing. “No, God no.”

“But you like him,” Ron said slowly.

“NO! I…well I mean…not…no?” Harry looked very unsure of himself. “I mean, well, Ron… Fuck it. We’ve slept together, Ron,” Harry finally admitted, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. He looked at Ron worriedly. The other boy’s jaw was dropped and his eyes were wide. Harry winced slightly.

“You…” Ron started to say, swallowing, “you’ve…had sex?” he asked slowly. Harry nodded, biting his lip. “Like… _real_ sex, not just…not just blowjob sex?” Ron continued, making a rather obscene hand motion. Harry nodded again. “ _When?_ ”

“Um, last night?” Ron looked completely flabbergasted. “You _can’t_ let Malfoy know that you know…ok?” Harry said quickly. Ron nodded slowly.

“It…was it…um, did you like it?” he asked, eyes still wide.

“Yes,” Harry replied quietly. He blushed again.

“Wow,” Ron breathed.

“Are you ok?” Harry asked nervously.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” Ron said quickly, shaking his head slightly. “So you had sex with another bloke, you _liked_ it, and you think you’re not gay?” Harry smiled a little. He’d done a great deal of thinking about this as he lay in bed last night.

“Well I haven’t slept with a _girl_ ,” he said. “So I might be bisexual. I mean, I’m not _attracted_ to guys…”

“Just Malfoy.”

“I don’t think I’m attracted to him.”

“You like him, Harry, admit it,” Ron grinned, settling back in his chair. “You’re Malfoy-sexual.”

“I don’t like him,” Harry insisted.

“Do you like any girls right now?”

“Um, no, not really.”

“Well, if you liked having sex with a guy, then heterosexual’s out. You claim you’re not homosexual, and apparently you’re not _bisexual_ …like I said, you’re Malfoy-sexual!” Ron proclaimed.

“Well that’s at least something. For awhile there we were all sure he was _asexual_.” Ron looked past Harry and Harry turned to see Seamus leaning on the back of his chair, grinning.

“Funny,” Harry said shortly, looking disgruntled.

“So what’s this?” Seamus asked, taking a seat on the arm of Harry’s chair. “Is Ron trying to convince you that you’re in love with Draco?”

“I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH DRACO!!” Harry thundered, getting weird looks from a few other Gryffindors in the room.

“You just called him ‘Draco,’” Ron pointed out.

“I did not- Oh. W-well Seamus called him that and it got me confused!” Harry spluttered.

“Mhmm,” Seamus and Ron said in unison, grinning at each other. Harry visibly deflated.

“I just…might…like him…a little,” he said in a small voice. Seamus let out a loud whoop, and even Ron’s grin widened a bit.

“Glad you can finally admit it,” he said.

“You _really_ don’t care?” Harry asked, eyebrows rising. The redheaded boy shook his head.

“Didn’t you get the memo? Apparently all the Slytherins are defecting to the Light.”

“All except Malfoy,” Harry said bitterly.

“He’ll come around,” Seamus spoke up. Harry sighed.

“Maybe…”

* * *

Draco arrived early to the Room of Requirement on Thursday, and he wasn’t very surprised to see Harry already sitting on the couch, finishing up some homework. Swallowing a little nervously, he walked over to stand next to him.

“Evening, Potter,” he greeted, interlocking his fingers behind his head. His shirt rode up a little with the movement.

“Hey, Malfoy,” Harry said cheerfully, looking up at him. His green eyes fell to the strip of pale skin showing between his shirt and pants, and Draco noticed that his cheeks flushed slightly before he looked away. The blond raised an eyebrow. Harry finished scratching something down onto his parchment, and then quickly dumped all of his stuff into his bag and turned to look at Draco again. “Ready then?”

Draco hesitated, and then nodded quickly. Harry nodded back and stood, walking towards the bed and pulling off his shirt as he went. Draco watched the slight movement of muscles twitching in his back.

“Are you coming?” Harry asked, dropping his glasses onto the nightstand.

“Hopefully,” Draco smirked, and he was pleased to see Harry blush again.

“Just get over here,” Harry ordered, rolling his eyes. Draco grinned slightly despite himself, and joined Harry, shucking off his shirt, as well. “We’re going to try something a little different tonight,” the Gryffindor said, stepping closer to Draco. The blond resisted the urge to back away.

“Oh?” he asked instead. Harry nodded.

“The goal of this is to make it feel good for you, right?” Draco shrugged.

“I suppose.”

“Ok. So…we’re going to try being…affectionate.”

“Excuse me?” Draco sneered, nose wrinkling.

“Oh, stop it!” Harry grinned. “Seam-…um,” Draco glared at him, “ _I_ think it’ll help. It’ll be gentler, get you worked up before hand, stuff like that.”

“I don’t need all that,” Draco frowned.

“Look, you don’t want to be crying in front of everyone on Saturday, right?” Harry asked exasperatedly.

“Well I don’t want to be _enjoying_ it either!” Draco snapped, annoyed. Harry rolled his eyes again.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” he said in an amused tone. Draco pursed his lips. Harry stepped closer to him, gently grabbing his wrists which were hanging loosely at his sides. Draco again resisted the urge to jump away. “Malfoy,” he breathed, stepping even closer so that their chests were touching and his breath ghosted across the other boy’s lips. Draco drew in a shaky breath, closing his eyes. “Draco…” The blond’s eyes shot open and he gasped slightly. Harry was smiling and moving in closer, and Draco realized that he was leaning his head back and away from the other boy. Harry’s grip tightened around his wrists, and then he closed the distance between them, kissing Draco softly on the lips and looking into his eyes.

Draco blinked several times in rapid succession and breathed harshly through his nose. Then Harry moved to deepen the kiss and Draco felt his eyelids slide shut as he eagerly opened up to the other boy.

He felt Harry turning him around and soon the edge of the bed was pressing against the back of his legs. Harry pushed him down onto it gently, mouth never leaving his, and Draco readily moved up the bed until he was resting amid the numerous pillows. Harry straddled him, tongue wrapping around the other boy’s as their kissing became more desperate, and Draco arched up into him.

Harry tore away for a second, panting for breath, and then his mouth was latched onto the sweat-slicked skin of the other boy’s neck. Draco gasped and then groaned loudly, grabbing hold of Harry’s hips so he could pull him down and grind their groins together. Both boys moaned, and then Draco sought out Harry’s mouth and they were kissing again.

“Ok, ok wait!” Harry gasped, pulling back. Draco grunted at him, head falling back onto the pillows. “Pants,” Harry said quickly, rolling off Draco and onto his back so that he could shimmy out of his pajama bottoms. The Slytherin quickly did likewise, flinching only slightly at the faint twinge he still felt left over from their previous escapades.

“Question,” he said breathlessly, as Harry rolled back on top of him and their freed cocks rubbed against each other. “Was Quidditch as much of a bitch for you as it was for me?” Harry laughed, burying his face in the crook of Draco’s neck.

“I had an extra day…but yeah, it was pretty bad. The only thing I could think about for the entire two hours was that it must have sucked for you,” Harry murmured. Ron had thought it was funny.

“Hmmm,” Draco sighed, breathing deeply as Harry began kissing a trail down his skin. He reached the Slytherin’s already hard cock but didn’t go any further, wrapping a hand around it instead and reaching with his free hand for the lube he’d brought.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked softly, pulling in long, slow strokes at Draco’s member. The blond nodded quickly, eyes squeezing shut. Harry leaned forward and kissed his stomach, and Draco relaxed fairly quickly. The green-eyed boy pushed one well-slicked finger past his entrance, listening to Draco hiss. “Ok?”

“Yeah,” Draco breathed, and Harry added a second digit. The blond tightened slightly but forced himself to relax soon after. Harry began making the scissoring motions, and Draco winced.

“Sorry,” Harry said softly. Draco shook his head, doing his best to concentrate on the pleasure still building in his groin. It actually was really helpful, and he let out a shaky breath. “Want to try for three?” There was a noticeable pause before Draco nodded. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” Harry murmured, pushing in a third finger. Draco’s eyes were still shut and his upper lip curled as he bared his teeth. Harry tightened one hand around Draco’s cock and push in deeper with his other. Draco gasped at the conflicting sensations.

“Weirdest. Feeling. Ever,” he ground out, opening his eyes to meet Harry’s gaze. The Gryffindor smiled at him, grabbing a pillow.

“Lift up,” he said, and Draco complied so that Harry could put the pillow under his lower back. Harry spread his fingers once more, feeling Draco clench and resist against him. “Ok…ok, I think you’re ready.” Draco let out a choked sound, fingers gripping the material they were laying on, and nodded. Harry removed his hand and immediately began slathering an excessive amount of lube onto his cock. He looked Draco in the eye as he lined himself, still stroking him with his free hand. “Ready?” The blond nodded again, pursing his lips. Harry held his breath and pushed in. There was no immediate reaction from Draco, aside from some shaky breathing. Harry finally removed his hand from the blond’s cock and rested both hands on his waist, pushing in further and gasping at the familiar, tight warmth.

Draco’s breath hitched and he jerked a little, causing Harry to pause. “No, keep going,” Draco said quickly, and the Gryffindor nodded, doing as he was told. Draco groaned and finally tightened up, and Harry sighed.

“S’ok,” he murmured, leaning forward and kissing Draco’s tightly closed mouth. The blond looked him, breathing quickly.

“Don’t you dare try to distract me again,” he panted. Harry chuckled.

“I won’t,” he promised, but kissed him anyway. Draco’s back arched and Harry slid further inside. He swallowed the blond’s gasp, intertwining their tongues and running his hands up his sides. Draco shuddered and whimpered slightly. Harry pulled back a little. “Last one,” he whispered, and Draco nodded and braced himself. Harry pushed forward a final time, gasping as the slick hotness engulfed him. Draco let out a strangled cry.

“Oh God!” he squeaked.

“You ok?” Harry asked, panting heavily. His eyes narrowed as he concentrated on Draco’s face, and he briefly tried to shake his bangs out of his eyes. Draco gurgled an incomprehensible reply. Harry’s thighs were quivering, but he stayed perfectly still, waiting until Draco met his gaze.

“Yeah,” he said, exhaling slowly.

“Ok…ok,” Harry took a deep breath, trying to focus on something beside the heat surrounding him. “Ok, tell me what…tell me if it feels good.” Draco snorted, but Harry ignored it. He pulled out and thrust back in slowly, groaning, and Draco grunted and winced. “No?” Draco shook his head quickly, eyes squeezed shut.

“Are you sure this will actually feel good?” he asked weakly.

“Yes,” Harry said, sounding very sure of himself. He pulled out again, tried to get a different angle, and pushed forward. Draco cried out, hands suddenly gripping at Harry’s biceps. His nails dug into Harry’s skin, but Harry didn’t say anything about it. “Sorry,” he murmured. Draco choked on whatever reply he was trying to give. Once again, Harry found a slightly different angle and thrust in.

Draco stilled, eyes shooting open as he gasped.

“That it?” Harry asked quickly, thrusting again at the same spot. Draco squeaked but shook his head rapidly. “…No?” Harry asked doubtfully. He pushed forward, watching as Draco’s cock twitched in response.

“No! Nope, no, that’s not it, it still sucks,” Draco rambled, breathing rapidly now. Harry grinned and thrust again, causing Draco to gasp and groan.

“Liar, you _like_ that,” Harry said, thrusting at a faster speed now.

“Nonononononono,” the blond moaned, slamming his hips up to meet Harry’s and gasping again. His arms wrapped around the Gryffindor’s neck and he pulled him down to kiss him desperately. Harry responded eagerly, feeling the pleasure building up rapidly now that he was able to move freely.

Draco ripped his mouth away and began chanting again, throwing his head back. “Fuckfuckfuck-JESUS, oh my God!” His cock was trapped between his and Harry’s body, and every time the green-eyed boy moved, Draco felt the friction and lost himself in the pleasure. It was absolutely the most exhilarating feeling he’d ever experienced. If he didn’t think about it he barely even noticed the stretching that still burned every time Harry thrust, and instead he focused on the incredible shocks of pleasure that shot up his spine whenever that spot inside him was pounded against.

“Oh God, Malfoy!” Harry gasped, mouth crashing against the other boy’s again. The blond couldn’t take much more of this and when Harry thrust again he felt his world explode. The room faded out around him and there were spots dancing in front of his eyes. His convulsing body clenched around Harry, and the Gryffindor’s eyes squeezed shut as he came with a wild yell. Panting heavily, he tried holding himself up but his arms gave out and fell onto the other boy’s heaving chest. Draco let out a long, low moan.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he hissed. Harry laughed tiredly, propping himself up onto his elbows. Draco was staring at him in amazement.

“Just a bit better, eh?” Harry asked. Draco laughed a little.

“I’d say so,” he admitted. Harry leaned down, kissing him so lightly that their lips were barely touching. Draco indulged him for a few seconds, and then pulled away and pushed at Harry’s chest. “Stop it, we’re done,” he said quietly. Harry blinked.

“Right,” he said in amusement, smiling slightly. He rolled off of the Slytherin and laid breathing deeply on his back. Draco put his hands behind his head. “So I think we’re ready for anything they can throw at us on Saturday,” Harry said idly.

“We damn well should be,” Draco replied, yawning.

“I don’t want to move,” Harry murmured, yawning as well.

“Fuck if I’m sleeping here,” the Slytherin said, sitting up and pushing himself off the bed. Harry sighed, frowning slightly, and sat up as well.

“Malfoy?” he said slowly. The blond turned to look at him, pulling on his shirt. There was a slight pause. “I…do you need my cloak again?” Harry finally asked, shoulders slumping and looking away.

“Nah,” Draco said, turning to the door. “It’s still pretty early. Um…” He paused, looking at Harry once more. “I’ll see you, Potter.”

“Saturday,” Harry replied cheerfully. Draco nodded, and then he was gone. Sighing, Harry turned and buried his face into the pillows.

He didn’t return to Gryffindor for at least another hour after that.

* * *

“Hermione! Where are we going?” Ron whined as the girl dragged him and Harry out of the common room fairly early on Saturday night. Their fellow Gryffindors were trailing some distance behind them.

“We’re going to the party, of course,” Hermione briskly, heading down the hall. She seemed unusually excited, which made Harry nervous.

“Wait, Hermione, we’re going to wrong way!” Ron exclaimed as they walked past the staircases and continued down the corridor.

“No we’re not.”

“Why are we going to the Room of Requirement?” Harry asked, suddenly realizing exactly which direction they were headed. Hermione grinned.

“You’ll see!” she said. Harry frowned. When they came within distance of the door, they noticed several Slytherins coming from the opposite direction: Pansy, walking quickly with Blaise, and Draco, in between Crabbe and Goyle, following them. Several other Slytherins were trailing further back. Harry thought he saw Theodore Nott among them, which was odd because this was the first time he’d shown up at a Saturday party.

“I told Terry Boot,” Pansy said, as soon as she and Hermione reached each other. The Gryffindor nodded.

“I told Susan Bones. Is everything all set up?” For the first time Harry noticed that the door to the room was slightly ajar. He tried not to panic, and out of habit caught Draco’s eyes. The blond looked confused as well. What had they needed to _set up?_

“Well, in we go!” Pansy declared, and she pushed open the door. Harry stepped into the room, pausing immediately, and he felt someone step up next to him and instantly knew it was Draco.

“Wow,” Ron said slowly, and Harry thought that pretty much summed it up. Now he knew why Hermione and Pansy looked so pleased with themselves.

The room was bigger than when he and Draco used it, even bigger than when the D.A. had practiced there last year. There was music playing from somewhere, and various comfy looking chairs were scattered in the back of the room. The front of the room was clear, and Harry guessed that was probably intended for dancing. But the most impressive part of the room was probably the long tables running along the length of the walls. They were covered in tablecloths that reached the floor, and were completely laden will all sorts of food. Dinner food, snacks, desserts, everything was there, along with large of pitchers of what looked like pumpkin juice and butterbeer.

“Draco, Potter! Stop blocking the door!” Pansy yelled, looking amused at their stunned expressions.

“ _This_ is what she had in mind?” Draco spat, stepping further into the room. Harry followed him, realizing now why Hermione had actually dressed up a little. Pansy herself was wearing a scandalously short skirt.

Soon the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs came tromping through the door, and suddenly this was the largest crowd that had ever shown up. Hermione was positively beaming.

“Alright, everyone! Gather round, gather round,” Pansy called, standing atop one of the chairs. Everyone crowded around her, Draco moving to stand by Blaise, and Ron shoving his way to the front with Harry. “Welcome to the last party of the year!” she exclaimed, and an appreciative murmur swept through the crowd. “I want you all to know that we’ve pleased the professors immensely with our, ahem, _house unity project_.” Pansy smirked. “We’re allowed the room for as late as we want, and the headmaster even gave us full access to the house elves in the kitchen. Professor Snape put on a grumpy facade when Granger and I asked if we could have this party, but I’m almost positive he’s the one who supplied the butterbeer.” The crowd tittered. “So dance, eat, and have fun! It’s been a wonderful year thus far, so let’s celebrate it!” Apparently done with her speech, she began to step down from the chair.

“Wait a second!” Ron blurted out, and Harry wanted to hit him.

“Yes, Weasley?” Pansy said amiably.

“That’s all we’re doing?” he asked

“Yeah, there’s no truth or dare?” Terry Boot clarified further. “Spin the bottle, I’ve never?” Pansy shared a look with Hermione.

“Granger and I discussed it, and we decided it would be fun if did without that tonight. You’ve probably noticed how many more people have showed up,” the Slytherin said dryly. Terry shrugged, and out of no where Harry felt really angry. They’d been planning this all along, hadn’t they? They’d _purposely_ made he and Draco think they needed to go to drastic measures to be prepared for tonight. And for nothing!

Or…well, not _nothing_ , it had been quite enjoyable…but still!

“Of course,” Pansy was still talking, “if you’d like, we could have one final dare. For closure’s sake.” There were exclamations of agreement, and Pansy grinned. “Alright. Something amusing though, please. Who has an idea? Any suggestions?” Harry’s hand was in the air before he’d even realized he’d thought of something. Pansy looked slightly startled, just like he felt, but called on him, sounding amused. “Yes, Potter?”

Erm…now he just had to think of something. Glancing around at everyone quickly, his eyes landed on Draco, who was giving him a look that seemed to shout, ‘what-the- _hell_ -are-you-doing?!’ And suddenly Harry realized he’d never gotten him back for that incident in Potions. Why not kill two birds with one stone? He could back at Pansy _and_ Draco. And he’d just deal with Hermione later…

“I dare you and Draco to switch clothes for the night,” he declared crossing his arms. Ron burst out laughing and clapped him on the shoulder. Draco looked shocked, and Pansy was starting to grin appreciatively.

“Good one, Potter,” she said appraisingly, which was when Harry realized it wasn’t exactly a hardship for her to change into pants and a button-up shirt. Oh well. Draco in a skirt would be amusing enough. “Are there any other ideas or-” Pansy was cut off as everyone started protesting. “Alright, alright!” she laughed stepping down. “Draco and I will switch clothes then. There’s your dare, now be off! Have fun!”

Gradually everyone separated and headed to different parts of the room. A few people started dancing immediately as an upbeat song played, other people met up with members from different houses and began chatting. Harry followed Ron to the back of the room where he was immediately accosted by several different boys congratulating him on such a good idea. Pansy had dragged Draco out of the room.

“Mate, that was _brilliant!_ ” Ron laughed, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Did you see his face? Brilliant! Wait.” He stilled suddenly, turning to look at his friend. “This isn’t some…some sort of kinky thing you guys do, is it?” Harry looked scandalized.

“God no, Ron!” he said, nose wrinkling.

“Well I was just wondering…” Ron grinned. “What with your apparent sexual confusion and all.”

“Ha ha,” Harry said flatly. “You are just so amusing.”

“I know, I think I get it from Fred and George.” Ron winked at him, and then moved to talk with Dean who was standing with Theodore Nott. Harry sighed, looking around the room, and then his eyes were drawn to the door as Draco was shoved through it.

Harry’s jaw dropped.

The blond was scowling and blushing pink as everyone turned to stare at him. His hair had been pulled back into a messy half-ponytail, and strands were sticking out all over the place as his hair was barely long enough for such a thing. Pansy’s shirt was low-cut and showed an ample amount of Draco’s pale skin. The skirt, which had been ridiculously short on Pansy, fell a little longer on Draco since it had slipped lower on his narrower hips. That, combined with the way the shirt rode up, allowed for a strip of his stomach to show, and Harry swallowed as he stared at the teasing line of fine hair on his belly that disappeared beneath the top of the skirt. The knee-high socks he had on refused to stay around his calves and one was starting to bunch up around his ankle.

Pansy stepped up next to him, Draco’s pants fitting her tightly. She had all of two buttons done on the shirt, showing a fair amount of cleavage. The bottom of the shirt she’d tied up under her breasts so that her stomach was showing, and her hair fell freely to her shoulders since she had given Draco her hair tie. Laughing, the girl wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist and addressed the crowd of onlookers.

“Somebody grab some napkins so we can stuff Draco’s bra!” she said, and immediately every boy in the room’s eyes were drawn to her unrestrained breasts which bounced freely as she laughed. Draco’s blush deepened. Blaise appeared out of nowhere, then, and he and Pansy were grinning as they stuffed napkins down a protesting Draco’s shirt.

The only thing Harry could think of was whether or not Draco was wearing Pansy’s underwear as well…

“There!” Pansy proclaimed, stepping back from Draco. Harry’s eyes fell to his chest and he wondered if it was odd that he liked looking there rather than at Pansy’s real ones. 

Soon enough, people began turning back to their previous activities, and Harry made himself comfortable behind the table that housed the butterbeer pitchers. He was idly staring at the ground when a square-toed platform shoe stepped into view and began tapping in an annoyed manner. Harry raised his eyes slowly, taking his time as he looked over the boy-clad-in-girl’s clothes, pausing when he saw the arms crossed below the unnaturally prominent chest, and then finally he met Draco’s eyes. Or glare, rather.

Harry grinned unabashedly.

“Hello,” he said cheerfully.

“Hello yourself,” Draco snapped. Harry’s grin widened.

“Teal is just not your color,” he quipped, referring to the top Draco had on. The blond scowled at him, and then rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall beside Harry. Someone whistled from across the room, and Draco’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, go hang yourself, Smith!” he called, and Zacharias laughed before turning away. “Hufflepuffs…” Draco muttered. “So, Potter. Lovely idea of yours.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

“Not that I particularly care but…was there a specific reason you decided to humiliate me in front of all our peers?” Draco sneered. Harry snorted.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t love the attention,” he replied, glancing at him. “Besides, you deserve it after that thing you pulled in Potions.”

“I wasn’t pulling anything,” Draco said airily, grabbing a cup of butterbeer and sipping it. “Sucking, maybe.” Harry laughed, feeling his cheeks flush a little.

“Speaking of…” Harry paused, turning to eye the Slytherin and leaning with one shoulder against the wall. “I think I owe you a blowjob.” Draco choked on his drink.

“W-what?!” he coughed, looking wildly at Harry. The Gryffindor glanced around and stepped closer to the Slytherin, reaching out and trailing his fingers up his thigh. Draco sucked in a breath when Harry tugged on his skirt a little.

“Well, you’ve given me _four_ now,” Harry said, smiling a little. “And I’ve only given you _one_.” Harry slid his hand beneath the black material of Draco’s skirt, slowly creeping higher, until the Slytherin grabbed his wrist.

“Ok, enough of that,” he said quickly, glancing around nervously. Harry grinned, stepping even closer. “God, Potter, what the hell are you doing?” Draco asked, taking half a step back.

“Oh, Malfoy, I just can’t keep away from anything in a skirt,” Harry said sarcastically. “You’re just so unbelievably cute.”

“Potter!” Draco looked scandalized.

“Come on, Malfoy, I’m offering you a blowjob! How can you not accept?”

“ _Now?_ Where exactly did you want to go?” Harry glanced around the room, and his eyes landed on the table in front of him. The table with the tablecloth that was long enough to touch the ground… He looked back up at Draco, smirking. “You have _got_ to be kidding me,” Draco said, brow furrowing.

“No, I’m quite serious,” Harry said, positively leering at the blond. Draco swallowed.

“Oh… _fine_ ,” he scowled. Harry laughed a little.

“Like it’s such a hardship for you,” he chuckled. Looking around the room once again, he then gestured for Draco to get under the table. The blond sighed and dropped to his knees before disappearing beneath the tablecloth. Harry downed the rest of his drink, slammed the cup onto the table, and followed him.

“Can I ask _why_ you actually _want_ to give me a blowjob?” Draco questioned as they stared at each other in the dim light.

“I just want to see up your skirt,” Harry grinned. Draco scowled. “Lay down.” Slowly, almost hesitantly, Draco did as told, attempting to hold his skirt up since his knees were bent. It didn’t really accomplish much because all Harry had to do was push his knees apart, and then even though he was still holding the top of the skirt, Harry could see beneath it quite well. Draco made an embarrassed sound in the back of his throat. 

“Merlin, Malfoy, you’re actually wearing her underwear!” Harry laughed. They were very clearly not meant for boys, and Harry could tell Draco’s cock was straining against the tight material even though he probably wasn’t even aroused much yet.

“Pansy insisted we switch _all_ of our clothes,” Draco groaned, covering his face with his hands. Harry was pretty sure he just didn’t want him to see his blushing face, but he didn’t much care because now that nothing was holding it up, Draco’s skirt fell around the top of his thighs.

“Oh God, they’re _pink!_ ” Harry exclaimed, before promptly laughing again. He felt Draco smack him across the head.

“Yes, and her bra matches, if you really want to know,” he groused. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly there were footsteps right next to them and someone paused, apparently getting something to drink. Harry and Draco glanced at each other. More footsteps sounded as another person joined the first one.

“Hermione, have you seen Harry at all? I have no idea where he went,” Ron’s voice said, and Harry choked, eyes widening.

“No, I haven’t seen him since he dared Malfoy and Pansy to switch clothes.” Ron laughed.

“Brilliant dare, that.” Draco scowled, crossing his arms across his chest. The paper in his bra crinkled, and Harry shot him a quick glare. There were more footsteps as someone else approached.

“Granger!- Oh, hi, Weasley- Granger, isn’t this magnificent?” Pansy’s excited voice said. “Everyone’s having a great time!”

“I’ve noticed,” Hermione replied. “It was a really good idea- oh ok, bye, Ron.” More footsteps as Ron apparently walked away. “Yes, it was an excellent idea. I’m really glad we pulled it off.”

“We are two very bright girls, Granger.”

“Professor McGonagall’s been giving me pleased looks all week.”

“Snape didn’t grade my potion badly.

“He doesn’t grade _your_ potions badly anyway.”

“Shut up.” There was a slight pause.

“So are you enjoying Mal- Draco’s clothes?” Hermione asked.

“Fuck no,” Pansy replied, and it sounded like there was some shifting around. “Draco has no arse, have you noticed?” Harry snorted, and Draco smacked him upside the head again. “I was going to wear his boxers, but Merlin, the pants were tight enough. So actually I think it shows off my figure rather well, don’t you think?” Hermione giggled, and Draco’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Wait, wait…You were going to wear his boxer’s? Does that mean…?” Pansy laughed.

“Yep. He’s wearing my underwear.” Hermione burst out laughing, and Draco flushed. Harry grinned at him. “I’m going to have to burn them once he gives them back, mind, but it’s definitely amusing.”

“Yes,” Hermione agreed. “You know, I hadn’t noticed, but you’re right. He doesn’t have much of an arse.”

“Boys,” Pansy sighed. “He probably makes up for it in front.” Draco’s eyes widened.

“You think?”

“I certainly hope so. What with his cocky- no pun intended- attitude, he must get that confidence from somewhere.”

“Good point.”

“What about Potter?” Harry’s eyes shot toward the tablecloth.

“Never really thought about it…”

“Liar. You’re with him all the time, you have to have thought about it at least once.”

“Well…I would think about average probably.” Harry frowned.

“Hmmm…yeah, I could see that.”

“Ah, but you won’t,” Hermione giggled. “I think he’s pretty much off the market.”

“Or close to it, we’re hoping.” Harry and Draco pointedly did not look at each other. “Speaking of, where _have_ our favorite two boys disappeared to?”

“Ron said earlier that he couldn’t find Harry.” There was another pause before both girls started laughing loudly.

“I’m going to go ask around,” Pansy said eventually, and then they both were walking away, and Harry and Draco looked at each other.

“Fuck all, I’m going to have to destroy those pants,” Draco mumbled.

“I can’t believe they were just talking about us like that. Average? Who does she think she is?” Harry scowled.

“Potter…you are average.”

“Hey, so are you!” Harry exclaimed indignantly. “But that’s entirely beside the point. She should think I’m bigger than that…” He pursed his lips. Draco frowned and shifted slightly.

“Um, hello? We’re down here for a reason, you know,” he said, gesturing at his panty-clad crotch. Harry grinned, looking down at him.

“Oh yeah,” he said, and moved forward to push Draco’s skirt up farther and kiss his stomach. The blond gasped.

Harry bent lower, pressing a kiss against Draco’s inner thigh, and Draco exhaled shakily. He was straining even more against Pansy’s underwear now, so Harry reached up and slowly pulled them down, Draco lifting his hips to help and moaning quietly when his cock was freed. Harry didn’t bother pulling the panties all the way off, and instead engulfed Draco with his mouth immediately.

Draco had to clamp a hand down on his mouth to muffle his groan, and his other hand wound itself into Harry’s thick hair. Harry grinned as best as he could around the blond’s cock, and then swallowed his entire length and sucked back up. Both of Draco’s hands tightened, and he thrust up into the Gryffindor’s mouth.

Harry made quick work of the Slytherin, sucking, licking, and swallowing as the other boy continued with the swift upward movements of his hips. He threw his head back when he finally came and bit down on his finger, stifling his gasping moan, and Harry swallowed down everything that shot into the back of throat. The Gryffindor pulled back slowly, staring at the panting boy beneath him, and fought very hard against the urge to shuck off his own trousers and plunge into that warm body.

“Worth it?” he asked instead, voice only slightly hoarse since the whole thing had been fairly quick, and Draco nodded lazily. Then he sat up, belatedly remembering to pull Pansy’s underwear back on, and sat cross-legged in front of Harry.

“How do I look?” he asked, brushing strands of hair off his sweaty forehead and trying to tie it back again. Harry peered at him, eying his flushed cheeks.

“Like you just wanked,” he finally answered, and Draco scowled, trying to control his breathing. He absently pulled the front of his shirt out and looked down.

“I’ve discovered that bras are a highly annoying piece of clothing,” Draco said, looking back up at Harry. “It was a pain in the arse to get on.” The Gryffindor chuckled. He lowered his eyes to stare at the pale skin of Draco’s neck, catching sight of a faded love-bite. He reached out to lightly trail his fingers over it, and Draco shivered.

“I always forget that it leaves a mark,” Harry murmured, looking Draco in the eye. The blond shrugged.

“I think everyone’s used to seeing them,” he replied dryly, smiling a little. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Draco coughed, looking away. “We should probably go back out before people have a heart attack trying to find us,” he said, turning onto his knees and carefully lifting the tablecloth and peering beyond it. Harry got an eyeful of Draco’s arse, with just a hint of pink showing beneath the black skirt. He swallowed, and vaguely thought that he whole-heartedly disagreed with Hermione and Pansy. Draco had a very nice arse.

“Potter!” the blond snapped, and Harry jumped slightly, meeting Draco’s eyes with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and moved to kneel next to him. Draco looked at him strangely.

“I’ll go first. You wait a minute or so,” he said after a short pause. Harry nodded, and then Draco was gone.

Harry waited a full two minutes before following the blond and heading back out into reality.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry was bored.

He’d done his bit of mingling already, and was now standing at the back of the room watching the rest of his classmates. There were still people out on the dance floor, which Harry was now avoiding after Lavender had dragged him onto it earlier for three songs. More people were lingering around the food tables, and there seemed to be some sort of card game going on in the back corner of the room. Harry had thought about joining, but he’d gotten pulled into a conversation with Terry Boot and now it was probably too late. So instead he was trying to find Ron but he had no clue where the boy had gone, and he was steadily _not_ trying to seek out Malfoy’s blond head in the crowd of all his peers.

Of course, when purposefully _not_ doing something, it is inevitable that the something _will_ happen anyway, so suddenly he could see the Slytherin stumbling towards him out of the corner of his eye and-

Harry did a double-take.

“’Lo, Potter!” Draco said cheerfully, leaning forward and into Harry’s personal space. The green-eyed boy reared back, nearly gagging from the smell of alcohol on Draco’s breath.

“Malfoy! What- Were you _drinking?_ Who brought alcohol?! And where’s your shirt? And-and your _shoes?_ Hell, where’s Pansy’s _bra?!_ ” Harry asked in rapid succession, eyes growing wider as he looked over Draco’s lithe body that now only seemed to be covered in the skirt he’d been wearing all night. “Tell me you’re still wearing your underwear,” he said in a pleading tone.

Draco had the audacity to _giggle_ at him and rested a hand on his stomach. Then a confused expression crossed his face and he looked down at the fingers he was trailing across his bare skin.

“Hey, where’s my shirt?!” he cried. Harry sighed and took the time to note how flushed the blond’s cheeks looked.

“Malfoy?” Harry said slowly.

“Potter?” Draco returned in the same tone, eyes wide.

“What have you been drinking?” Harry continued. The Slytherin bit his lip slightly and glanced towards the ceiling for awhile.

“Firewhiskey!” he suddenly declared, crossing his arms across his naked chest and looking inordinately proud of himself. Harry thought he looked rather-

Er…nothing. He thought he looked like nothing. Actually he wasn’t even thinking about how Draco looked at all. Nope!

“And where did you get it from?” Harry asked quickly, keeping his eyes on Draco’s face.

“Theodore brought it,” the other boy replied promptly. “S’why he came, I think.” Harry sighed and pursed his lips, glancing around the room to see if anyone was paying attention to Draco Malfoy gallivanting about in nothing but a skirt. It didn’t look like anyone was watching, but then again he’d made the mistake of thinking that before.

“And your clothes?” Harry asked tiredly. “Have you any idea where they got to?” Draco nodded rapidly.

“I was playing…um…something. A game. A card game!” he said, and then started tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Started with a ‘P’… Pock? Poke?”

“Poker?”

“Ah! That’s the one!” Draco exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “It was…uhh…Don? Dean? It was Dean’s idea.” Harry blinked, head tilting to the side slightly.

“Dean suggested that you play strip poker?” he repeated faintly. Draco nodded again, grinning. “And you actually agreed to play?” There was more vigorous nodding. “But…Malfoy… Poker is a Muggle game.” Draco’s face fell, and suddenly he looked as if he really might cry.

“It’s a _Muggle_ game?” he asked in the manner of a little boy who couldn’t believe his puppy had just died.

“Er,” said Harry helpfully. Then Draco’s eyes widened drastically and he pointed at something behind Harry.

“Potteeeerrr!” he whined, before stopping abruptly. Apparently deciding that he didn’t like the way that sounded, he continued instead with, “Haaaaarryyyy! Harry, call him off! Don’t let him near me!” Confused, Harry spun around and felt Draco latch onto him from behind. Seamus was walking towards them, grinning.

“Uh, is there something wrong with Seamus?” Harry asked, puzzled

“I don’t want him hitting on me,” Draco said waspishly. “I don’t like _boys_.” And then he promptly wrapped his arms tightly around Harry’s waist. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Hey, Seamus,” he greeted when the Irish boy finally reached them.

“Hallo, Harry. Enjoying yourself tonight?” Seamus asked. Harry blushed, blaming it on the warmth of the body behind him, and felt Draco rest his chin on his shoulder.

“I suppose so,” Harry shrugged awkwardly. “And you?”

“It’s been grand,” Seamus said with an absent wave of his hand as he glanced off to the side for a brief second. His eyes returned to Harry, and he grinned. “I just thought I’d warn you…Harry, you’re standing under mistletoe.” Harry blinked and hadn’t even had the time to fully process that statement before he was shoved aside and Draco was in front of him, arms spread imperviously.

“YOU CAN’T KISS HIM!!” the blond all but roared, and several of their nearby classmates who had been pretending not to watch gave up and turned their full attention onto the three boys. Harry blinked again, glanced upwards, and blinked once more.

He was about ninety-nine percent sure that mistletoe hadn’t been there before.

Peering into the crowd, he quickly spotted Hermione innocently facing the opposite direction, and Harry instantly knew this was her doing. Then he noticed how many people were staring at them, and he finally realized what they were all expecting.

Harry blushed. He rested a hand gently on one of Draco’s raised arms and tried turning him around, but the blond would have none of it.

“Back away, Harry. This fiend here wants to snog with you and I WILL NOT ALLOW IT!” Draco bellowed, sending Seamus a glare that would have turned any normal person into stone. The Irish boy simply grinned.

Harry desperately wished the floor would open up and swallow him, and he vaguely wondered why the Room of Requirement wasn’t listening to his needs.

“Malfoy,” Harry said quietly, jaw clenched. The boy didn’t respond, so Harry sighed agitatedly and snapped, “Malfoy!”

“Merlin, Harry, what the hell do you want?” Draco whined, finally turning to face the Gryffindor and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Leave Seamus alone; he isn’t the one standing under the mistletoe with me, and he _doesn’t_ want to kiss me.”

“Ah ha, on the contrary, Mr. Potter-“

“ _Shut up_ , Seamus!” Harry snapped. His fellow Gryffindor winked and mimed pulling a zipper across his mouth before stepping back into the continually growing crowd. Even the poker players had stumbled their way across the room and were leaning drunkenly against each other as they watched.

Harry sighed and gripped both of Draco’s biceps and the blond’s arms fell to his sides. The Slytherin was staring at him with furrowed eyebrows and his lips were pursed petulantly. “Seamus isn’t the one I’m supposed to kiss,” Harry clarified slowly, watching as awareness slowly dawned in Draco’s eyes.

“Are you going to kiss me?” he whispered with wide eyes. Harry nodded. “In front of all these people?” He sounded as if the idea frightened him.

“Malfoy, _these people_ are our classmates and most of them have seen us do more than simply _kiss_ ,” Harry said dryly.

“Oh.”

“Ok?” Harry asked, smiling gently. Draco nodded, and Harry leaned forward to press a kiss softly on his lips. He’d only been preparing to give Draco a quick peck, but the blond’s hands came up and latched onto Harry and his entire body arched into the Gryffindor’s. Harry swallowed his own gasp, eyes fluttering shut, and eagerly opened his mouth to his drunken counterpart. Draco’s tongue met his and instantly Harry could taste the bitterness of the alcohol he’d been drinking earlier. The hot, sharp flavor of firewhiskey filled his mouth and sent his senses reeling.

The two boys kissed hungrily, the burn of the firewhiskey fueling their passion and sending it straight to their groins, and before he knew what he was doing, Harry had slammed Draco up against the wall so he could further devour his mouth. The blond groaned and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry’s neck, and suddenly his legs were around Harry’s waist, ankles crossed behind his back, and Harry had to quickly adjust his hold on Draco lest the other boy sent them both crashing to the floor.

“Malfoy!” he blurted, startled, before Draco’s mouth was on his again and Harry couldn’t help the way he was squashing the boy against the wall.

“Harry,” Draco murmured, brushing quick kisses against the Gryffindor’s mouth. He alternated between kisses and whispering his name, and Harry swore there were spots dancing in front of his eyes as he ran his hands along Draco’s naked skin. “…Harry…” Draco kissed his lips again. “…Harry…” His mouth moved down to the boy’s jaw. “…Harry…” Draco bent his head and gently kissed the side of Harry’s neck. “…Harry, Harry, HarryHarryHarry!” Draco groaned, lifting his head so that he was staring directly into green eyes. “God, fuck me again, Harry,” he whispered, eyes falling half-closed.

Harry couldn’t stop his own eyes from widening drastically, and he very nearly dropped Draco right then and there. “Ok…ok, Malfoy, I think we need to get you to bed,” he said shakily, slowly pulling back and dislodging Draco’s legs from his hips. The Slytherin’s eyes widened, and he again looked like he was about to cry.

“You hate me!” he accused, lower lip sticking out.

“No, but you’ll hate yourself in the morning,” Harry muttered. He wasn’t fooled into thinking no one had heard what Draco had just said. There were only a few people in the front of the crowd who looked shocked, but with all the murmuring going on, Harry was sure the word was spreading quickly. He spotted Ron, looking on nervously, standing next to a surprised looking Hermione. Harry winced slightly; he’d forgotten that he hadn’t told the girl yet.

Blaise was suddenly at Harry’s side, taking Draco’s arm and throwing it gently around his shoulder. “S’ok, Potter, we can get it from here,” he said, trying to move the blond away. “Where the hell are Crabbe and Goyle?”

“Cleaning off the tables and making sure the food doesn’t get wasted,” Pansy said dryly, also appearing out of nowhere. She was dragging a smashed looking Theodore Nott (who seemed to be missing his shirt, shoes, and one sock) with her. “Potter, clear out your drunk Gryffindors, we’ll get these two back to the dorms.”

“NO!!” Draco suddenly shouted, tearing away from Blaise and collapsing against Harry instead. “No! I want to stay with Harry, YOU CAN’T MAKE ME GO!!” Blaise rolled his eyes and gently tried pulling Draco back to him.

“Most dramatic drunk _ever_ , I swear!” he muttered. Draco was clinging to Harry, though, and Blaise rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Merlin, Potter, what have you done to him?” Pansy asked coolly. “He didn’t tell me you two had…” Shaking her head quickly, she continued on a different track, saying, “Well I suppose you put this room to good use, then?” Harry promptly blushed and was unable to meet her eyes.

“I’ll take him back,” he offered quietly. He could feel Pansy’s eyes on him.

“Fine,” she said shortly, lips twitching slightly. “Blaise, you take Theodore. Potter, follow them. I’m not ready to leave yet.” Glancing around the room, Pansy’s eyes landed on Hermione. “Granger!” she called, and the girl swiftly joined them. She cast a quick glance over Harry and Draco, lips quirking into a grin, before turning to Pansy.

“Yes, Pansy?”

“We need to clear the drunkards out of here. Stupid boys, honestly, do they really think the teachers aren’t going to make sure we weren’t breaking any rules up here?” Hermione nodded, pursing her lips.

“Right, I agree. I’ll have Ron get Dean out of here. And I’ll tell Justin that Zacharias and Ernie need to go too. Really now, Ernie’s a Prefect, what was he thinking? I don’t suppose there were any Ravenclaws playing?” she asked. Pansy shrugged.

“Michael Corner was there for a bit but...but Anthony Goldstein dragged him away,” Draco spoke up from where his face was buried into Harry’s shoulder. He hiccupped once, and then appeared to fall asleep right where he was standing. Harry blushed again when he saw Hermione staring at them.

“Right, well we’ll just go then,” he said quickly, dragging Draco along with him as he headed for the door. “Zabini, let’s go!” Blaise raised an eyebrow at the two girls, smirked, and then proceeded to haul Theodore out the door.

* * *

Getting the two Slytherins back to their room turned out to be much more difficult that Harry had thought it would be. Draco was snoring loudly from where his face was still resting against Harry, and the Gryffindor was trying to alternate between carrying him and dragging him down the numerous flights of stairs. Blaise wasn’t having as many problems because Theodore’s state was the complete opposite of Draco’s. The Slytherin was wide-eyed and smiling, and while Harry was pretty certain he’d never heard more than two words from the boy’s mouth in all his years at Hogwarts, Theodore was now pouring out his complete life story to his two escorts.

It was a very long trip down to the dungeons.

By the time they finally got there, Blaise had either forgotten or frankly just didn’t care that Harry was with him, and he blurted out the password so that the wall would slide open for them. When they arrived at the 6th year boys’ dormitory, Blaise wasted no time dumping Theodore onto one of the beds while Harry hovered awkwardly in the doorway.

“Alright, Theodore, time for bed!” Blaise said loudly over Theodore’s rambling. The reedy boy went silent, peering up at Blaise disbelievingly.

“Is it really?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yes, yes it is. Isn’t it, Potter?”

“Er, yes, it’s definitely time for bed!” Harry agreed. Theodore’s eyes narrowed briefly, and then he nodded and collapsed backwards onto the bed.

“Ok then,” he mumbled, pulling halfheartedly at the covers. Blaise bent down to pull off the boy’s shoes and tossed them aside. After making sure his friend was tucked in and nearly asleep, he pulled the bed curtains closed and exhaled loudly.

“Finally,” he muttered, turning to face Harry. “Oh, sorry. Draco’s bed is the one on the far wall over there,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “Just dump him on it and we can go back.”

“You’re actually going to climb back up all those stairs?” Harry asked, pulling Draco over to his bed. Blaise shrugged, following at a distance.

“Mmmmm, Harry…” Draco groaned as soon as he left Harry’s arms and was lying on the bed. His eyes shot open, and Harry had to stifle his own groan of annoyance.

“Go back to sleep, Malfoy,” he said softly instead. The blond’s eyes widened as he stared at Harry.

“You…you’re not _leaving_ me, are you?” he asked.

“Bed, Draco. You’re drunk as shit and Potter and I are going back to the party,” Blaise said over Harry’s shoulder.

“But…but…but,” Draco kept saying, looking around desperately. Harry turned to leave, but Draco grabbed his wrist and held on tight. “You _can’t_ go, Harry!” Harry sighed.

“You can go back, Blaise. I’ll stay until he falls back to sleep again,” the Gryffindor offered. “It shouldn’t be too long…” he muttered. Blaise shrugged again, smirking a little.

“Right then. Nighty night, Potter!” he called as he exited the room. The door closed behind him.

“Are we alone now?” Draco whispered. Harry sighed again.

“Do you want to get into more comfortable clothes?” he asked, ignoring Draco’s question. The blond seemed to consider this, and then shook his head. “Well get under the covers then. It’s time to sleep.”

“Will you sleep with me?” Harry went still abruptly. This was the second time tonight Draco had asked him something like that, and while he knew that the Slytherin was drunk out of his mind, he still found it odd that he kept bringing it up. “Harry!”

“What? Oh, sorry,” Harry apologized sheepishly when he saw Draco glaring petulantly at him for ignoring him.

“I asked if you would sleep with me,” Draco reminded him. His lower lip started trembling as his eyes widened. “You hate me. You won’t even come near me!” he accused, and Harry immediately acquiesced.

“No! No no no, Malfoy, I don’t. I don’t hate you,” he assured, sitting down on the bed. He absently kicked off his shoes as he spoke, belatedly realizing that his 16-year-old brain had taken the phrase ‘sleep with me’ and instantly thought of it in sexual terms. Harry blushed slightly, wanting to kick himself. Draco eyed him for a moment, and then nodded once.

“Good,” he said, slipping underneath his covers. Harry reluctantly did the same, lying unnaturally still next to the other boy. Draco was going to kill him in the morning… “Harry?” The Gryffindor shivered as Draco’s warm breath caressed his ear and he felt the blond hug one of his arms.

“Yeah?” Harry breathed, staring up at the dark canopy.

“…You forgot to close the curtains,” Draco said sleepily. Harry blinked, and detached himself from the blond so he could sit up and close them. He felt Draco squirming and shifting around beside him, and when he looked down he saw that the other boy was holding Pansy’s underwear between his fingers as if it was a piece of trash.

Harry swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, and tried to breathe steadily.

“Do you mind?” Draco asked obliviously, tossing the panties off to the side. “They were really tight and annoying.” Harry shook his head quickly, lying back down again.

“S’fine,” he mumbled. Draco peered down at him and Harry removed his glasses so that his hands had something to do rather than fiddling with the blankets. He’d just placed them on them on the night stand when Draco’s mouth was suddenly on his, and despite his best inhibitions, Harry was instantly kissing him back.

Draco broke away, sighing deeply, and curled himself around Harry’s body. Harry awkwardly wrapped an arm around the boy’s waist, and Draco was snoring lightly in less than a minute, using Harry’s chest as a pillow.

Harry sighed, absently tracing patterns across the skin of Draco’s back, and he fought very hard to ignore the blond’s half-hard member pressing against his hip.

“You are _so_ going to hate yourself in the morning, Draco,” he whispered, and then he shut his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Awareness came to Draco slowly the next morning. He knew he’d woken up before he actually opened his eyes, but his bed was so comfortable that he had no intention of getting up. Groaning quietly, he opened his eyes slightly and peered blearily at his bed curtains. His felt like he’d slept with cotton in his mouth and his stomach was doing queasy flip flops.

So not the way he wanted to be waking up.

Yawning, Draco stretched out his legs and then his arms, belatedly noticing his didn’t have a top on. “Why am I not wearing a shirt?” he mumbled to himself. A soft grunt answered him, and suddenly Draco was wide awake. He sat up quickly and turned to stare in shock down at the lump under the covers beside him. He was still staring when the lump rolled onto its back and revealed that it had Harry Potter’s face. Green eyes opened slowly, blinking several times, and Harry yawned, covering his mouth with a hand. Then he sighed deeply, opened his eyes fully, and caught site of Draco’s shocked gaze.

“Oh,” he said abruptly, dropping his hand back down to the bed.

“Potter?” Draco croaked in disbelief. Harry looked sheepish. “Oh God,” Draco turned away, eyes still wide. Harry idly folded his arms behind his head, watching as Draco ran a nervous hand down his bare chest and swallowed thickly. “I swear to God, Potter, I had _better_ still be wearing my pants,” Draco said dangerously, not looking at the Gryffindor.

“You’re not,” Harry replied in slight amusement. Draco made an alarmed sound in the back of his throat and rolled out of the bed. He landed on his knees beside it, the curtain falling around him, and looking as if he was trying to hide from Harry. Then he glanced down, startled.

“Why the hell am I wearing a _skirt?_ ” he asked in obvious confusion. Harry chuckled.

“It’s Pansy’s,” he answered. “Don’t you remember?” Draco blinked.

“Oh.” Then his eyes widened in understanding. “Ooohh!”

“Remember?”

“Yeah…yeah, I remember that part now,” Draco said slowly, sitting back on the bed beside Harry, who had also sat up and was leaning back against the headboard. “…So…where are the rest of my clothes?” Harry grinned, looking down at the blanket that he was fiddling with.

“Well you were in such a state of helplessness that I offered to bring you back to your dorm where I then proceeded to ravage you until all your dorm mates returned in the early hours of the morning. You quite enjoyed it, don’t worry.”

There were a few seconds of absolute silence, and when Harry finally looked up he saw the shell-shocked look on Draco’s face.

“I _am_ kidding, I hope you know.” Draco looked at him doubtfully. “Um, hello? Gryffindor, remember?” Harry said, raising his eyebrows and pointing at himself. Draco remained silent, so Harry sighed and explained, “You were playing strip poker with some other guys. Um, actually, come to think of it I don’t know _why_ you were playing strip poker with a bunch of _guys_ …”

“Theodore didn’t want to share all of his alcohol,” Draco said slowly, as bits and pieces started coming back to him. “We didn’t start the stripping part until we were pretty tipsy.” Draco shifted, meeting Harry’s eyes briefly before his gaze flew to his lap. “I’m not wearing my underwear,” he said in a sort of shocked voice. “Oh God.”

“Oh, no, you took that off once you got back here.” Draco slowly looked at Harry again, eyes wide. Harry blinked, and then paled slightly. “Nonononono,” he said rapidly, waving his hands around aimlessly. “No, I mean, you thought they were uncomfortable so you shucked them off before you fell asleep.”

“And you just slept next to me while I was practically _naked?_ ” Draco asked, eyes narrowing. “Why the hell are you even in my bed, Potter?!” he demanded.

“Well you wouldn’t let me leave, _Malfoy_ ,” Harry snapped back.

“So?!” Draco retorted loudly. “You could have left after I was asleep again!”

“You were draped all over me so I would have had to move you and you would have woken up again!”

“Potter, I’m pretty sure you could have found a way to leave if you had really wanted to.” Draco crossed his arms sullenly. “Now everyone will know you’re here and what am I supposed to say to them?” Harry looked uncomfortable suddenly, and Draco blinked. “What?” he asked quickly. “What? What is it? What’s wrong, what _happened?_ ”

“Well…” Harry started to say, scratching the back of his head. “Well…you were very drunk, you know…”

“ _What. Happened?_ ”

“Um…” Harry sighed. “Ok, last night I was standing off to the side of the room and you kind of stumbled your way over to me… And, well, there was suddenly mistletoe above me…I think Hermione put it there. Anyway, so I kissed you-”

“ _WHAT?_ ” Draco snapped, eyes wide with horror. “ _Why?_ ”

“Well because everyone was _watching_ -“ Harry tried to explain.

“Why was everyone watching?!” Draco screeched.

“Because- Oh, fuck it, Malfoy. They just _were_. And so I kissed you and then you started _really_ snogging me-“

“I did not!”

“Do you want to hear the rest of this or not?” Harry asked agitatedly.

“You mean there’s _more?_ ”

“Um, yes. And it gets worse.”

“Oh God.”

“Malfoy, do you know how many times you’ve said that this morning?” Draco narrowed his eyes, so Harry quickly plowed on. “Right, never mind. So I was, um, kissing you. A lot. And…” Harry blushed, looking away from Draco and twiddling his thumbs. “And I kind of…slammed you up again the wall, a-and you wrapped your…legs around my waist-“ Draco groaned and buried his face in his hands. Harry absently watched as his ears turn pink. “-and I kind of forgot that everyone else was even there, until you broke away and…and…andyousaidGodfuckmeagainHarry,” he finished rapidly. “And everyone heard.” Draco lifted his head and stared at Harry in shock.

“You’re lying,” he said abruptly. Harry shook his head slowly.

“Malfoy, I’m _not_.”

“Yes you are,” Draco insisted, shaking his head. He eyes looked a bit wild. “I didn’t-…I _wouldn’t_ -…Potter, I didn’t…I didn’t _like_ it that much, why would I say something like that? That I’d want you to…to do it _again_. That’s just gross!” He paused for a second, and then continued, “And I wouldn’t call you ‘Harry’ either.”

Harry sighed, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. “I’d do it again,” he admitted quietly.

“Yeah, I bet you would,” Draco snapped, crossing his arms.

“No, I mean I would… _bottom_ again…” Harry said. Draco blinked.

“You would?” he asked, wrinkling his nose slightly. Harry nodded.

“And so would you,” he added as an afterthought.

“I wouldn’t!” Draco insisted. Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re the bloody queer here, Potter, not me!”

“Oh, so _now_ I’m allowed to be _queer?_ ” Harry asked, amused.

“I…well… I’m not your keeper, if you want to be gay then fuck all and be gay!” Draco answered, shifting nervously and blushing a little. Harry grinned and leaned over towards him.

“I’m gay, Malfoy,” Harry whispered into the blond’s ear. Draco shivered slightly. “Wanna fuck me?”

“No,” Draco answered instantly. Harry grinned and kissed the side of Draco’s jaw, just below his ear.

“Are you sure?” he asked. Draco nodded and Harry pressed another kiss against his neck. “What’s wrong? You won’t fuck me because I’m gay?” Harry murmured, sucking lightly on the boy’s collar. Draco groaned.

“God _damn it_ , I hate you,” he moaned, turning to catch Harry’s mouth with his own. Harry rolled onto his back, pulling Draco on top of him and the blond straddled Harry’s waist. “You don’t have the lube with you,” Draco pointed out as he ran his hands beneath Harry’s shirt.

“Yeah well…” Harry ignored that and lifted his arms above his head. Draco was just starting to take the boy’s shirt off when the bed curtains were suddenly flung open and the two of them froze. Blaise was glowering down at them, and on the bed behind him they could see Crabbe, Goyle, and Theodore sitting and watching eagerly.

“Potter, I’m still drunk and hallucinating, right?” Draco asked quietly.

“Er…” Harry answered helpfully.

“You know, I can stand to listen to the arguing, and maybe even some of the kissing,” Blaise spoke up, “but I draw the line at _shagging_.”

“We weren’t shagging,” Draco said quickly.

“Well you were _going_ to,” Blaise said, rolling his eyes.

“No we weren’t.”

“Weren’t you?” Blaise asked, looking at Harry.

“Yeah, we really were,” he replied, shrugging.

“No we weren’t!” Draco insisted. “We’ve never even shagged before this.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” said Harry and Blaise at the same time. Draco looked highly affronted.

“Merlin, Draco, put some clothes on,” Blaise groaned, turning away and letting the curtains fall shut. “The train leaves in two hours. Potter, get back to your own dorm, and Draco, you packed yesterday, right? Because you and Pansy still have Prefect shit to do.” Draco and Harry eyed each other awkwardly, and after a moment the blond finally climbed off.

“Yeah, you’ll want to put some underwear on before you go anywhere,” Harry said, eying Draco’s erect cock that was extremely easy to see through the thin material of the skirt he still had on.

Draco’s cheeks went pink and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

* * *

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed when the boy finally climbed through the portrait to the Gryffindor common room. “It’s about time you got back. I’ve got a bone to pick with you, mister- Harry, what happened to your eye?!” Harry grinned sheepishly.

“Um, Malfoy punched me,” he said, and Hermione sighed before casting a quick healing charm. “Thanks.”

“So, don’t you think you have something to tell me, Harry?” Hermione asked pointedly.

“Oh,” Harry blushed. “Yeah. Hermione… I’m gay.” There were a few seconds pause as his friend blinked several times.

“Well I’m glad you can admit it, but that’s not what I’m referring to,” she finally said. “Ron already told me you thought you might be.” Harry’s eyebrows rose.

“Did he now?”

“Yes. But I thought you might like to tell me something about Malfoy. Something that he said last night…?”

“Oh that,” Harry said, glancing away. “Um…yeah, it was true.” Hermione squealed excitedly.

“So are you two a couple now?” she asked, smiling brightly.

“Of course not!” Harry exclaimed. Hermione frowned slightly.

“Well why not?”

“Just…it’s complicated,” Harry said, waving her off. “Aren’t you supposed to be off doing Prefect things?”

“Ron’s taking care of that.”

“Oh. Well, I’m going to go make sure I have all my stuff together. Are you visiting the Weasleys at all over break?”

“Yes, I’ll be there for New Years, so I’ll see you then,” Hermione told him.

“Brilliant,” Harry grinned.

* * *

Later, as the Gryffindor trio was dragging their luggage down to the carriages, Harry caught site of Draco walking with Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind them and hauling all of their trunks. Ron noticed him staring and grinned slightly, jabbing Hermione in the side with his elbow and gesturing toward Harry with a nod of his head. Hermione grinned as well.

“You should go say goodbye to him,” she said softly, and Harry whipped around to stare at her.

“Who?” he asked lamely, though the sudden color in his cheeks gave away that he knew he’d been caught. Hermione looked at him flatly, and when Harry shifted his gaze to Ron, he was given the same look. “No, you guys…” Harry said pleadingly. “It’s not like that. Really, I… Malfoy doesn’t think of me like that. And I don’t…um…we’re not-“

“ _Harry_ ,” Hermione interrupted. “You’d just be saying goodbye to a…to a _friend_.” Ron snorted and Harry rolled his eyes.

“We’re not friends. He said so himself,” Harry murmured.

“And when did he say that?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Oh, before the first time we had sex,” Harry said absently with a wave of his hand. He was staring at Draco again as they neared the thestral drawn carriages. Ron and Hermione both paused and Harry walked a few feet beyond them before realizing they weren’t with him. “What?” he asked, turning to face his friends.

“Mate, exactly how many times have you and Malfoy buggered?” Ron asked. Harry cringed slightly and blushed, slowly holding up three fingers. “Three-?! Are you serious, _three_ times?” Ron spluttered.

“Look, I’ll tell you all about it on the train, ok?” Harry said, turning away and walking again. Hermione chuckled as she looked at his red ears.

When they arrived at the train station, somehow Harry managed to spot Draco in the crowd right away. The green-eyed boy paused, leaning against a wall and shoving his hands into his pockets. Hermione stepped up beside him, Ron behind her.

“How long is break?” Harry asked.

“Three weeks,” Hermione replied. Draco was talking with Pansy and getting ready to climb onto the train. Harry sighed.

“Bollocks,” he mumbled, and then took off towards the blond. “Malfoy!” he called, darting through a crowd of Hufflepuffs. “Malfoy, hold on, wait a second!” Pansy and Draco paused and turned around as Harry came up behind them. “Malfoy, I need to talk to you,” he panted, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Hey, Pansy,” he greeted offhandedly.

“Potter,” Pansy smirked. Draco sneered at Harry.

“Would you stop that?!” said both Harry and Pansy in exasperated tones. Draco blinked and pursed his lips.

“What do you want, Potter?” he asked coolly.

“To talk to you,” Harry replied.

“So talk.”

“In _private_ , Malfoy?” Harry rolled his eyes, reaching forward to grab Draco’s wrist. He began to drag him away from the train, but Draco was resisting.

“Potter, what the hell are you trying to pull?” he hissed. “Pansy is _right there_ -”

“Pansy knows we’ve fucked, Malfoy,” Harry said loudly, and several first years nearby gasped and dropped their bags. “It was practically her idea, after all.” Draco’s eyes slid shut in embarrassment and Harry was able to haul him away from the crowds of students. Pansy grinned after them, and turned to talk to Padma Patil who’d just stepped up to get onto the train.

“Alright, you got me away from everyone and made a right scene while doing it,” Draco groused as he and Harry walked around a corner to find a secluded area. “Now what the bloody hell do you want?” Harry stopped walking and Draco leaned back against the wall behind them.

“I wanted to make sure you were aware of a few things,” Harry said carefully, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

“Well hurry up, the train leaves in five minutes,” Draco snapped. Harry sighed.

“Right,” he said, turning to fully face the Slytherin. He stepped closer to him, and Draco’s eyes widened when Harry leaned forward and braced himself against the wall, one hand on either side of Draco’s head. “First thing… I don’t hate you anymore,” Harry said slowly, meeting Draco’s gaze. The blond opened his mouth to speak, but Harry plowed forward, ignoring him. “Second thing. I…I’ve decided that I’m definitely gay.” Draco’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Well I’m definitely _not_ ,” he said shakily as Harry leaned even closer. “I like _girls_.”

“You’ve never done anything with a girl,” Harry pointed out.

“Exactly! I’m sure I’ll like it a lot better!”

“Better? Oh, so you admit to liking what you’ve done with me, then?” Harry smirked. Draco’s eyes shifted off to the side.

“I admit nothing,” he said haughtily, chin rising slightly. “Besides, you might like being with a girl better, too. You’ve never even looked at another boy besides me.” Harry shook his head, grinning a little.

“I loved kissing Seamus. Don’t tell me you didn’t.” Draco opened his mouth to object, but Harry ignored him and quickly continued, “I hated kissing Cho and Hermione.”

“Well those two weren’t exactly the best of choices for you, now were they? Failed crush and your best friend.”

“Malfoy. I’m _gay_. That shouldn’t be your problem, it should be mine. So stop fretting about it!” Harry exclaimed in amusement. Draco frowned.

“You’re running out of time, Potter,” he said snidely. “I don’t blame you for putting off having to stay with the Weasels for three whole weeks, but really, you need to just accept it so we can get on the train and go.”

“I have one more thing to tell you,” Harry said, frowning but ignoring the cut at the Weasleys.

“Well get on with it!”

“Alright!” Harry huffed. He took a deep breath. “Third thing…the third thing is that…” Harry closed the remaining distance between him and Draco, meeting his wide stare and brushing his lips against the other boy’s with each word he said. “I’m really…going to miss you over break.” Draco’s mouth opened in surprise, and Harry quickly claimed his lips and took advantage of his shock by sweeping his tongue into the other boy’s mouth.

Draco’s breath hitched and he groaned, arms involuntarily wrapping themselves around Harry’s neck. The Gryffindor leaned into him, hands still braced on the wall beside his head, and both boy’s tongues met eagerly. Harry knew he could have stayed like that forever, just holding Draco’s body against his own, but he heard the train whistle sound and abruptly he broke away from the blond. Both boys were breathing heavily.

“Have a good break…Draco,” Harry whispered, and after pressing a last chaste kiss on the stunned boy’s lips, Harry turned and ran for the train.

* * *

“I think Potter has a crush on me,” Draco declared to Pansy several days into break. Christmas hadn’t yet passed, and Pansy was spending the day at the Malfoy Manor while their mothers chatted inside. The two Slytherin Prefects were strolling through the Malfoy grounds in the early afternoon. Well, not exactly strolling, per se, as they were nearly knee deep in snow, so _trudging_ would really have been a better way to put it.

“Really now?” Pansy replied, grinning slightly. “What a surprise.”

“I blame it entirely on you, of course,” Draco continued, an unhappy look on his face. He’d been like this nearly all day.

“Is it such a problem? I’d find it kind of flattering, really.”

“Of _course_ it’s a problem, Pansy. He’s _gay_ ,” Draco spat. “He’s the boy-who-lived-to- _not_ -continue-the-Potter-name-because-he-only-fucks- _boys_.”

“Maybe he has a long lost brother,” Pansy said in a bored manner.

“Oh he would, just to spite me,” Draco groused. Pansy rolled her eyes and threw herself backwards into the snow. Draco spun around to look at her. “Did you fall?” he asked curiously.

“On purpose, yes,” Pansy answered, throwing out her arms and spreading her legs. Draco watched as she continually did this: opening and closing her legs and dragging her arms down to her sides before pushing them up again.

“Alright, I give. What the hell are you doing?” Draco asked.

“I’m making a snow angel, obviously,” Pansy retorted, continuing with her movements.

“Whatever are you doing _that_ for?”

“Because I _like_ to,” Pansy snapped. “I used to do it with my father when I was little.”

“Well stop. It’s embarrassing,” Draco muttered.

“No one’s here but you.”

“What are you, five? Only kids make snow angels.” Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms so that he had an excuse to shove his hands into his armpits. It was bloody _cold_ out.

“Draco, we _are_ kids,” Pansy said in an exasperated tone. Her friend actually had the audacity to chuckle at that.

“Right, good one, Pansy. I don’t think I’ve been a _kid_ since I was nine...”

“God damn it, Draco!” Pansy cursed, flinging a handful of snow at the boy as she sat up. “Fucking hell, we’re _sixteen_ years old! WE. ARE. STILL. KIDS!!” she yelled. Draco blinked at her outburst, absently brushing the snow she’d hit him with off his robes. “I’m tired of it, Draco. I’m _so. Fucking. Tired_. I’m tired of Death Eaters, I’m tired of muggleborns and half-bloods and _purebloods_. I’m tired of the fucking Dark Lord and his insane plans that get our parents thrown into Azkaban. I’m tired of all this petty _taunting_ and _fighting_ between eleven-year-olds just because they’re in different houses-”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little rivalry, Pans-”

“I’m not talking about RIVALRIES, Draco, I’m talking about the outright fights between children who have no thought of their own inside their head. You like to ignore it, I know, but do you know how many brawls I’ve had to break up this year? It isn’t just you and Potter, you know. Stick nearly any Gryffindor with nearly any Slytherin and they’re at each other like cats and dogs. It’s _pathetic_.”

“So? What does that have to do with anything,” Draco asked angrily. “Gryffindors are a bunch of-”

“Merlin, shut _up!_ ” Pansy exclaimed. “God, I just want be a normal teenager sometimes. Normal in a world where an evil raging _lunatic_ didn’t try to kill a one-year-old baby, fail, and then fail the next ten times he tried to do it again.”

“I agree. If Potter had just died the first time we wouldn’t have to deal with any of this mess-”

“For God’s sake, Draco! It isn’t Harry’s fault!”

“ _Harry?_ ” Draco repeated incredulously, nose wrinkling.

“Yes, _Harry_. That _is_ his name, after all. And he wasn’t the one who started all this shit. Fuck, Draco…just…oh, forget it,” Pansy said tiredly, collapsing back into the snow again. “Just let me be a normal kid for a second, would you? If I want to make a fucking snow angel then I’m going to make a fucking snow angel! You should try it sometime, this whole ‘being a kid’ thing,” she said, peering up at the blond. “Because at the rate you’re going, you’ll be an old man by the time we’ve graduated Hogwarts.”

“I think you’re acting childish and immature,” Draco muttered.

“Good! Because you know what? I _should_ be!” Pansy shouted. “Sixteen, Draco. That’s how old we are. We’re still in school, we haven’t taken our N.E.W.T.s, we’re not of age…bloody hell, we can’t even do magic outside of Hogwarts!” Draco frowned at that, looking petulant. “So just…slow down and enjoy life for awhile, would you? Have a fling with Potter, make snow angels, _enjoy_ being young while you can!”

“I can’t do that, Pansy,” Draco snapped, glaring down at her. “As long as my father’s in jail I have to be the man of the house-“

“Oh, for the love of Merlin,” Pansy said agitatedly, covering her face with her hands. “You’re not even _home_ nine months out of the year. I’m sure your mother gets on just _fine_ when you’re not there.”

“She’s only been by herself for _four_ months,” Draco pointed out. Pansy rolled her eyes and moved to a new patch of snow to make another snow angel. Closing her eyes, she let herself relax, enjoying the sudden silence since Draco didn’t seem to be talking. She heard a slight crunching noise after a moment; the sound of someone stepping through the deep snow. She felt Draco’s presence beside her before she opened her eyes and glanced over to see him lying in the snow a few feet away. He was frowning, but Pansy could tell from flushed look of his cheeks that he’d taken what she’d said to heart.

“Not so hard, is it?” she asked, smiling gently. Draco glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as he awkwardly moved his arms and legs.

“The snow’s going to ruin my hat,” he said matter-of-factly. “The fur’s going to get all soggy and matted down.”

“That hat’s horrible anyway,” Pansy grinned, turning so that she was leaning on her elbow and looking down at Draco. “I got you a better one for Christmas.” Draco laughed and stopped moving his arms and legs and instead folded his arms behind his head.

“I guess I could try this whole ‘being a kid’ thing, as you put it,” he said slowly. “Sounds promising.”

“You should try the ‘have a fling with Potter’ part, too,” Pansy said lightly. Draco frowned.

“He’s a twat. I don’t like him.”

“Mhmm.”

“And I don’t like boys anyway.”

“Right.”

“I don’t!”

“How many times did you sleep with Harry?”

“Um…I didn’t?” Pansy raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh fine. It was just the one-…three times…” Pansy’s second eyebrow joined the first.

“ _Three_ times?” she repeated, surprised. Draco blushed.

“Well the first time rather sucked, you see…” he admitted sheepishly. Pansy continued staring at him for a few seconds, and then suddenly she was straddling Draco’s hips and covering his mouth with hers.

Draco’s eyes shot wide open and he made a surprised, protesting sound in the back of his throat. He hands flew to Pansy’s shoulders and his first thought was to shove her off.

And then his second thought was _why?_

He and Pansy had been friends for ages now, it seemed. She’d gone to the Yule Ball with him, though admittedly in those years she’d had a slight crush on him. And Draco had known it. But nothing had come of it and Draco had thought that Pansy had gotten over him. Since she was kissing him now, though, maybe that wasn’t the case. And really, Pansy wasn’t an unattractive girl. She may not have been the most beautiful girl in their year, but she was pretty enough. Why shouldn’t Draco try to start something with her? Or try to at least have a one-off or some such?

Quickly making up his mind, Draco instead moved his hands from Pansy’s shoulders to wrap them around the back of her neck and pull her down closer to him. His mouth opened under hers and tentatively their tongues met, sending a slight shiver down Draco’s spine. Really, this wasn’t too-

 _Wrong_.

Draco shivered again, somewhere in the back of his mind acknowledging the fact that it wasn’t from the snow and it wasn’t because Pansy was slowly grinding against him. Ignoring this, Draco tried to deepen the kiss, intertwining their tongues and pressing Pansy’s body even closer to his own.

_Wrong wrong wrong._

It wasn’t anything like kissing Harry. Hell, it wasn’t even like kissing _Seamus_. Pansy’s breasts were soft and squishy against his chest where Harry would have been all hard, smooth angles. Quickly shying away from the contact, Draco gently pushed Pansy’s upper body away from his and the girl moved so that she was kneeling over the blond rather than sitting on his lap.

Draco trailed his hands down Pansy’s sides, desperately trying to become lost in kissing her. His hands met the gentle swell of Pansy’s hips-

 _Wrong_.

-and he tried pulling her back down to grind against him. For some reason it came as a shock to him when there was no firm, hard length pressing into his own groin, instead there was just that _softness_ again-

_WRONG._

-so Draco tried to get used to that instead. He pictured himself thrusting into her, penetrating her wet warmth and…and…and this wasn’t doing anything for Draco at all and he was really starting to panic so he thought back to the night Pansy had had to flash everyone and tried to imagine kneading those-… _sucking_ her-…tried to imagine cupping her breasts with his hands-

_WRONG WRONG WRONG._

-and the thought send his stomach reeling and before he realized what he had done, he’d shoved Pansy away from him with a loud gasp and began sucking in deep, calming breaths.

“Oh God,” he moaned, covering his face with his hands. “Fuck… _FUCK_ , God _damn it!_ ”

“Draco?” Pansy asked tentatively, touching the boy lightly on the shoulder. “Draco, are you ok?” The blond reared back from her touch, holding his hands out in from of him as if to ward her off.

“Don’t. Just…don’t, Pansy,” he said miserably, eyes wide and scared looking. In fact, Pansy thought as she peered at him, he looked absolutely terrified.

“Draco, honey, what on earth is wrong? Look, I’m sorry about that, I just thought I’d…well… Well it definitely was as bad as I thought I would be. Like kissing my brother or something,” Pansy chuckled nervously. She hadn’t thought Draco would react quite like _this_. “Was it like that for you? It just seemed like you were kissing your sister?” Draco shook his head, still taking deep, rapid breaths.

“What, you mean like…like very uncomfortable and no passion?” he asked shakily.

“Yes! Exactly like that,” Pansy replied, grinning. Draco groaned.

“No, it was a million times worse,” he croaked. “I could even…I didn’t… There was _nothing_. I wasn’t even thinking it was _you_ , I was just…I was _trying_ , I was, I swear I was,” Draco babbled, “I kept thinking about…about _sex_ or seeing you naked or just _feeling_ … I…fuck, it was like…it…you’re just so…” Draco paused, released one shuddering sob of a breath, and blurted, “You’re such a _girl_ and I _hated_ it!” Pansy blinked as Draco drew his knees up to his chest and buried his face into them. “GRAH, _FUCK!_ Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!”

Pansy sighed, moving closer to her friend and wrapping her arms around him from behind. Her breasts were pressing against his back, and the first irrational thought that flew through Draco’s mind was that, _fuck_ , he didn’t even like girls _hugging_ him because if it had been Harry behind him like that, there wouldn’t have been any sort of…of _barrier_ between them because the smooth, flat line of Harry’s chest would have been fully pressed against Draco and he could have reveled in the comforting warmth of another body just _that_ much closer to his own.

…

Shit.

He was fucking _queer_.

“Oh God!” Draco exclaimed again, eyes squeezing shut.

“Draco, it’s ok,” Pansy tried to reassure him, but the blond was having none of that.

“No, no it’s really not, Pansy,” he mumbled into his knees.

“Sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with being gay.” Draco’s shivering slowed to a stop, and he released a long breath.

“But…but there _is_. There has to be! I can’t…I can’t be _gay_. I’m the only Malfoy heir; I have to produce _another_ Malfoy heir to carry on the name!” Draco said desperately. “I can’t just…just up and forget my family to have a torrid affair with my father’s worst enemy!” Pansy sighed.

“Draco, I think your father might resent that you think a sixteen-year-old boy is his worst enemy,” she said dryly. “And anyway, it’s not like it’s a _marriage_ proposal. It’d just be a little fun for the rest of the year or something.”

“Why are we talking about Potter?” Draco asked, annoyed. “He’s not even the problem. The whole point is that if I’m gay, then I won’t get married and I won’t be able to have kids and I’ll shame the whole family and when my dad gets out of Azkaban he’ll disown me and-“

“Draco,” Pansy interrupted, “You’re not going to be disowned. And it’s not like it’s a disease. You _can_ still have kids. Maybe you can have an…an _arranged_ marriage or something. This isn’t the end of the world.”

“Well it’s pretty damn close,” Draco muttered, shifting so that he was sitting cross-legged. He began fiddling with his robes, and Pansy sighed, finally releasing her hold on him.

“Are you ok?” she asked.

“No,” Draco retorted. He eyed Pansy suspiciously. “Did you kiss me on purpose?” he asked, eyes narrowed. Pansy smirked.

“The world may never know,” she replied innocently. Draco frowned.

“I hate you.”

“I know, darling, I love you, too.”


	11. Chapter 11

About a week after Draco had his earth-shattering revelation, Harry accidentally had an epiphany of his own.

Christmas with the Weasleys had been wonderful. Most of the family had shown up for the holidays, with the notable exceptions of Percy, who no one mentioned, and Bill, who hadn’t been able to get away from his job but had promised to show up for New Years. Seeing the twins again had been fun, and Harry couldn’t help wishing they were still at Hogwarts.

The days of break sped by faster than Harry would have liked, but he was glad to see Hermione again when New Year’s Eve rolled around.

He was also rather glad to see Bill, who had shown up with Fleur almost immediately after Hermione.

Harry’s epiphany occurred sometime during dinner, though he really shouldn’t have been so surprised by it. He’d always liked Bill, ever since he’d first met him before his fourth year. Having him and Mrs. Weasley there to support him during the third task later that year had been a huge relief. And really, Harry thought as he drank from his glass, hadn’t the first word he’d thought of the first time he’d seen the man been _cool_? Harry couldn’t help the way his gaze kept falling on Bill throughout the meal, and it finally occurred to him during dessert that he was staring at Bill the same way Hermione was. And she had the same look in her eyes that Ron did as he gazed longingly at Fleur.

Harry promptly choked as his pumpkin juice went down the wrong tube, and it took both of his aforementioned friends pounding on his back for him to be able to breathe again.

“Harry, what happened back there?” Hermione asked later when she, Ron, and Harry were all sitting in Ron’s room. “You still look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

“Harry sees ghosts all the time, what’s that got to do with anything?” Ron asked in confusion. Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Muggle phrase,” she said, waving off the question and focusing on Harry. “Harry, _what’s wrong?_ ”

It took a few seconds for the boy to answer as he sat there with a stunned expression on his face, but eventually he blurted out, “I’m gay,” in an awed sort of voice. Hermione and Ron sat quietly, waiting expectantly for more, but when no explanation came they glanced at each other.

“Um, Harry,” Ron said slowly. “We know. You’ve told us that already.”

“No,” Harry shook his head slightly, “no, I mean I’m _really_ gay. Not just…just- How did you put it, Ron? Malfoy-sexual?” Hermione snorted and Ron grinned.

“Yeah, that’s right. Wait… You mean…?” he trailed off, staring at Harry, who nodded slowly.

“I’m just…attracted to boys…in general,” he declared softly. “Or at least I think so.”

“And how did this occur to you?” Hermione asked, looking interested. Harry looked sheepish, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well,” he started to say, focusing on Hermione so he could avoid looking at Ron, “I was…staring at…at Bill…and…” Hermione immediately grinned.

“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” she gushed. Harry bit his lip slightly, blushing, and nodded. Ron groaned.

“Awww, Harry!” he moaned, wrinkling his nose. “You’re not supposed to find my _brothers_ attractive!”

“He’s more than attractive,” Hermione said, smiling widely. Ron gave her a disgruntled look.

“He really is, Ron,” Harry added hesitantly. “I guess I’ve always thought so… Just…his hair! It…it-”

“Begs for you to run your hands through it?” Hermione offered slyly. Harry laughed.

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “And I love his earring. It’s brilliant!”

“Did you see his biceps?” Hermione asked eagerly. “God, they’re probably hard as rock.”

“Mhmm, and he probably has amazing abs, too,” Harry mused.

“And he has the most beautiful eyes-”

“I know! It’s like, when he’s looking at you he sees _nothing_ else in the room-”

“OH MY GOD, SHUT UP!” Ron yelled suddenly. “No no no, I _refuse_ to listen to _both_ of you raving about how good my _brother_ looks!” Harry and Hermione glanced at each other in bewilderment, before they both burst out laughing. “Merlin, you sound like a bunch of bloody _girls_ ,” Ron continued to mutter, and that only made his two friends laugh harder.

“Oh, s-sorry, R-Ron,” Harry managed to get out through his laughter. “It’s just…he _is_ -”

“I don’t care what he _is_ ,” Ron said loudly, which only set Harry and Hermione off again. Ron sighed, crossing his arms, and waited for them to quiet down. When they finally did, he asked in an annoyed tone, “Are you quite finished?” Both of them nodded. “Good. Ok, Harry, here’s what I don’t understand. You said you think you’ve always thought Bill was…attractive?”

“I think so,” Harry answered, nodding.

“Well, you met him before fourth year,” Ron pointed out. “But you had a crush on Cho that year.”

“The thing about Cho,” Hermione interrupted, deciding to throw her two cents in, “is that she’s rather…boyish. Not in looks!” she added quickly when Harry opened his mouth to protest. “But think about it. The first time you really noticed her was during a Quidditch match, wasn’t it? And how can anyone look pretty and girly in a Quidditch uniform?”

“I thought she had a very pretty face!” Harry said in an affronted tone. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“She was just another one of the guys, but with more feminine qualities! Don’t you change in the same room as your female teammates?” she asked.

“Well…we shower in different rooms…”

“That’s not what I asked. Look, I’m just saying that while you’re on the pitch or during a game or something, the girls on your team are just other teammates!”

“Of course they are!” Ron spoke up, frowning a little. “We can’t treat them as girls on the field, they’d kill us! You have to treat everybody equally.”

“Exactly!” Hermione exclaimed. “So Cho was just another player when you first saw her. I doubt very much that you fell for her because of her _girlish figure_.” Harry frowned as he considered this.

“But…ok, so that was third year. But I did try to ask her to the Yule Ball in fourth year!”

“Yes,” Hermione said slowly. “But she was already going with-”

“Cedric,” Harry said softly. “Why did he have to fall for _her?_ He was good looking enough that he could have had any girl he wanted- Oh God.” Harry’s eyes went wide, and Hermione grinned.

“Ron, do _you_ think Cedric was good looking?” she asked slyly.

“Eh,” Ron’s nose wrinkled. “How the bloody hell would I know?” Hermione looked at Harry with raised eyebrows.

“Bollocks,” Harry muttered, looking shocked. “Do you think I was jealous of _him?_ ” Hermione shrugged.

“You might have been,” she said. “Because when you finally had a shot with Cho last year…it just didn’t go very well, did it?” Harry pursed his lips.

“Well she always wanted to talk about _Cedric_ \- fuck!”

“And when you kissed her…” Ron said slowly, finally catching on.

“You could only describe it as _wet_ ,” Hermione finished triumphantly.

“She was crying!” Harry exclaimed indignantly.

“Mate, a kiss is a kiss,” Ron said, laughing slightly. “You should have enjoyed it at least a little.”

“So…so are trying to tell me that I’ve _always_ been gay?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“You did ditch Parvati at the Yule Ball,” Ron pointed out. “One of the prettiest girls in our year and you completely blew her off-”

“Says the boy who didn’t look _twice_ at Padma,” Harry sniped. Ron blushed and stole a quick glance at Hermione, who was looking amused. “But then again we all know what the reason for _that_ was,” Harry added, smirking. Ron’s blush deepened.

“Harry, love, the point is most people don’t just _turn_ gay,” Hermione said gently, reaching over to pat the boy on the knee. “So yes, you’ve probably always been more attracted to boys than girls, but you’ve just never had the chance to really realize it.” Harry frowned.

“Wow,” Ron said quietly, watching as his friend slid sideways from a sitting position to instead lie on his back on the bed. The boy covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly.

“Are you ok?” Hermione asked softly. Harry nodded, still covering his face.

“It’s just…a bit much to take in,” he said in a muffled voice. “I mean, it’s one thing to admit that I like Draco-”

“Oh, so now it’s _Draco?_ ” Ron muttered.

“-but it’s totally different to realize that I’ll probably never be attracted to any girls.” Hermione patted his knee again, and the three sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“So did you send Draco a Christmas present?” Hermione asked eventually, hand still resting on Harry’s knee. Ron’s was staring at it with a furrowed brow, but Harry hadn’t seemed to notice it was there.

“ _No_ ,” he replied, voice still muffled. Then he moved his hands and peered up at Hermione curiously. “Why would I do that?”

“Because,” Hermione said exasperatedly, “it would have been a nice thing to do. And I’m sure Draco would have appreciated it.” Ron snorted.

“You think?” Harry asked doubtfully.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re actually considering it?” Ron groaned.

“Well it’s a bit late for Christmas, isn’t it? Of course I’m not!” Harry assured him.

“You could send him a New Years card,” Hermione suggested. Harry and Ron stared at her blankly.

“Do people send New Years cards?” Harry asked, blinking. Ron shrugged.

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun!” Hermione exclaimed, bouncing off the bed to dig around through Ron’s school supplies. The redhead gave Harry a look, making the boy roll his eyes. “Where’s your parchment, Ron- ah! Found it!” She emerged triumphant with a roll of parchment and a quill. “Now we just have to think of what to say.”

“Hermione, he’s not a girl,” Harry said, watching as his friend set up all the writing utensils around her. “I really don’t think he’s going to appreciate a…a _love letter_ as much as, say, Lavender or Parvati.” Hermione sent him a quick glare, so he hurriedly added, “Or you!”

“It’s not a love letter,” Hermione said briskly, tapping the quill against her chin. “You’ll just write something simple. You know, _Happy New Years, Draco! Can’t wait to see you when school starts up again!_ ” Ron and Harry grimaced.

“I know _I’d_ never want to receive a letter like that,” Ron muttered. Hermione sighed exasperatedly.

“Well then what do you think it should say?” she huffed.

“How about nothing,” Ron suggested, “since Harry won’t be sending him a letter in the first place!”

“Harry?” Hermione asked, ignoring Ron. Harry stared at her contemplatively for a few seconds, and then finally let out a long sigh and sat up.

“Give me the parchment,” he said tiredly, and, grinning, Hermione handed it over. Harry wrote for awhile, then stared at the parchment for a long moment before scratching out all of two sentences and then handing it back. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Is that all?” she asked. Harry nodded, so, pursing her lips, she read over what he’d written. Her brow furrowed. “ _I meant what I said at the station. Hope you’ve had a good break. –H_. That’s it? You can’t even be bothered to sign your whole name? And what did you say at the station?”

“I’m pretty sure he’ll know who ‘H’ is,” Harry said dryly. “And what I said to him isn’t any of your business.” Ron and Hermione blinked, staring at him. “Really, it wasn’t important.” They were still silent. Harry started fidgeting. “It’s not…it doesn’t mean anyth…” he trailed off, squirming under the scrutiny of his two friends, and finally he caved. “I just…told him that I’d…miss him,” Harry said sheepishly. Hermione squealed excitedly, clasping her hands together, and Ron cringed.

“And he punched you for it, I hope?” he asked.

“I uh…didn’t really give him a chance to reply,” Harry said, blushing. Ron rolled his eyes, and Hermione squealed again.

“You’re too sweet, Harry,” she grinned, rolling up Harry’s letter. “Somehow, I think this’ll be more than enough for Draco. And it’s the thought that counts anyway, right? Ron, get me a ribbon.” Ron frowned, but did as told. Digging through his drawers, he came up with a bedraggled looking red ribbon and handed it to Harry.

“Um,” Harry glanced at Hermione, then back at the ribbon, “I don’t…I don’t think a _red_ ribbon is a good idea.”

“So sorry,” Ron said sarcastically, crossing his arms. “Let me pull out my supply and you can pick a different one!”

“What would you prefer, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a…a green one, would you?” Harry asked hopefully. Ron groaned for the umpteenth and collapsed face first onto the bed. Hermione giggled, brushing her hair back from her face.

“I’ll go ask Ginny,” she offered, and then strode out of the room. Ron turned to look at Harry, eying him for a few seconds.

“Harry. You know I really don’t mind, right?” he asked. Harry blinked.

“I know,” he said.

“No, I want you to know that I _really_ don’t. You’re my best mate, and nothing will ever change that. Even if things work out with the Ferret or even if, God forbid, you somehow shack up with one of my brothers,” Ron sat up, smiling a little. “We’ve always been there for each other-”

“You more than me,” Harry interrupted, shifting in slight embarrassment. He was smiling though. “I’ve dragged you into more trouble-”

“Ah, so we’ve had some mishaps along the way,” Ron waved Harry off, grinning now. “That we’re still best mates says something, don’t you think?” Harry nodded, shoving his hands beneath his thighs as his feet dangled off the bed. Ron swung an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “And nothing will ever change that, ok?” Harry nodded, grinning widely. He hadn’t realized he’d been slightly worried about it until the relief swept through him at Ron’s words. 

“Thanks, Ron,” he said softly. Ron tightened his arm briefly before releasing Harry.

“Just…don’t give me the details of your sex life, ok?” Ron said, laughing. Harry chuckled.

“Ok,” he agreed. Hermione appeared in the doorway with a green ribbon clenched in her hand.

“Got it!” she exclaimed. Both Harry and Ron grinned at her.

* * *

_Draco, sweetheart, you know I’ll love you no matter what, right?_

“Draco.”

_You do what you need to do. Your father made his choices, and not that I particularly agree or disagree with them… I just… I don’t want you to end up…_

_Like him?_

_I don’t want you to **regret** anything._

“…Draco?”

_You’re my son. My one and only precious child. Please…please don’t leave me… Don’t abandon me like your father did!_

_He didn’t **abandon** you, he stood up for his beliefs-_

_And look where it got him! The Dark Lord **is not** what he used to be. I love you and I don’t want to see anything happen to you._

_So you expect me to take the cowardly route?_

“Draaaacooo…”

_…I’ll love you no matter what…_

“DRACO!”

“ _What?_ ” Draco snapped, turning in his seat to look at Pansy. The girl held up her hands defensively.

“Whoa, sorry! It’s just…you were kind of zoning out. And you’ve been fiddling with that parchment so much it looks like it’s about to fall apart,” Pansy said, looking concerned. “Is everything ok? You’re not usually so quiet.” Draco frowned, turning to look out the window as the scenery flew by.

“I’m worried about my mother,” he admitted, shoving the aforementioned parchment into one of his robe pockets.

“We just left the station twenty minutes ago, how can you be worried about her?” Pansy asked. Draco shrugged.

“Just…a feeling.” The door to their compartment opened and Blaise strode through with Crabbe and Goyle following him, the two latter boys with arms full of sweets from the trolley. “You couldn’t have waited until she came around?” Draco asked as Blaise dropped into the seat next to him. The boy grinned, snatching a pumpkin pastry from Goyle and biting into it.

“Nah, I’m hungry now,” he said. “Theo’s coming with drinks.” As soon as he said this, the door slid open again and Theodore walked through with Millicent following him. Draco went back to looking out the window.

“So guess who we ran into?” Theodore spoke up as he settled into his seat. Blaise looked at him.

“Who?”

“Who do you think?” Millicent smirked. “Would anyone else really be worth mentioning?” Pansy’s eyes lit up.

“Did you see Potter?” she asked excitedly. Draco’s hand unconsciously flew to his pocket. Millicent nodded.

“He was wandering around by himself; told us Weasley and Granger were already doing their Prefect duties,” the girl said. “Load of bull, if you ask me.”

“You talked to him?” Draco asked, looking away from the window to level his stare on Theo. The boy shrugged.

“He asked me how bad my hangover was that Sunday,” he said.

“He also said that he and Theo would have to get together sometime, seeing as how he knows practically Theo’s entire life story and Theo knows next to nothing about him,” Millicent added, smirking. “You’re such a talkative drunk, aren’t you, Theodore?” she cooed sarcastically. Theodore scowled, crossing his arms, and Blaise laughed.

“I couldn’t get you to shut up!” he exclaimed. “You were so bloody annoying!”

“Better to be talkative than possessive,” Pansy spoke up, grinning. Beside her Draco frowned, cheeks going slightly pink.

“Or talkative _and_ possessive,” Blaise amended, and everyone in the compartment started laughing. Draco’s frown deepened.

“It’s not Draco’s fault if he’s a jealous, ranting drunk,” Crabbe said loudly. Everyone paused, turning to look at him. After all, it wasn’t that he or Goyle were too stupid to contribute to the conversation…they just usually didn’t. “I mean, take away Greg’s beer and he’ll start throwing fists at anyone in the vicinity. It’s just how they are.”

“Thank you, Crabbe, for that very important piece of insight,” Draco said sarcastically after a couple seconds of silence. Crabbe nodded, and Draco reached into his pocket to pull out the parchment he’d been looking at earlier. He’d only had it for a few days, but it was already well-worn and full of creases from where he’d folded it over and over.

“Draco, what _is_ that?” Pansy finally asked, reaching over in an attempt to snatch it from him. Draco held it out of her reach.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” he replied, “but it’s a letter.”

“A letter?” Blaise repeated. “From who?”

“Like I said,” Draco scowled, “it’s none of your business.”

“Is it from Haaaaarry?” Pansy asked in a sing-song sort of voice. Draco sneered at her.

“Ooooohh, Draco! Is Potter sending you love letters?” Millicent asked, grinning.

“No!” Draco said vehemently. “Of course not! Why, did he say something about it?”

“About the letter he didn’t send you?” Theo smirked. “No, but he asked how you were.”

“He did?” Draco asked, despite himself. Then he blushed. “I mean- That prat, what does he give a fuck about me for? I think he’s getting a bit…a bit obsessive.”

“Says the boy who’s probably read that letter at least two hundred times,” Blaise muttered. Draco punched his shoulder and Blaise started laughing.

“Fucking Potter,” Draco spat, shoving the letter back into his pocket again and crossing his arms.

“S’what you’re good at, isn’t it?” Millicent asked with a raised eyebrow. Draco spluttered indignantly, and Pansy came to his rescue, giggling.

“Come on, honey,” she said, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the door. “There’s a Prefect meeting we need to get to.”

The meeting was boring, as always. Pansy hung around for a bit afterwards, and Draco didn’t realize why until it was only he, Pansy, and the Gryffindors left in the room. He frowned.

“Granger!” Pansy said happily, rushing towards her…friend? Draco grimaced. Is that what they were now?

“Pansy, hi!” Hermione said, sounding just as happy. “How was your break?”

“Boring,” Pansy replied, shaking her short hair out of her face. “And yours?”

“It was alright. Much better once I got to the Weasleys.” Hermione looked around behind her, gesturing her friend forward. “Ron come say hello!” Ron stepped up, looking almost as annoyed as Draco felt.

“Hi,” he said slowly, almost warily. Hermione sighed, and she and Pansy shared a look that made Draco very uncomfortable.

“Well, Granger and I are going to go do rounds,” Pansy said cheerfully. Draco’s and Ron’s eyes went wide.

“What- Hermione!” Ron exclaimed.

“Pansy, it’s one thing to try and set me up with Potter,” Draco said dangerously, “But if think I want _anything_ to do with _Weasley_ -”

“Hey, the feeling’s mutual, Ferret!”

“Oh, fuck off, Weasel!”

“Boys!” Hermione interrupted snappishly, and Ron and Draco gave her such identically affronted looks that she couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from her lips. Pansy grinned next to her.

“Really, don’t you think it’s high time we put our differences behind us?” she asked.

“ _Hermione_ ,” Ron said, putting a hand over his eyes. “I hate to agree with _Malfoy_ …but…what _are_ you two? Hogwarts’ junior peace corps?”

“Ohh, there’s an idea, Granger!” Pansy said excitedly. “We could start a club.”

“You might start by calling her _Hermione_ ,” Ron grumbled. Pansy rolled her eyes.

“Fine then, _Hermione_ , shall we go?” she asked before leading the way out of the compartment. Hermione grinned and sent Ron a short wave before following the other girl.

This left the two boys standing in awkward silence, looks of disbelief on their faces.

“I can’t believe they just _left_ us,” Ron muttered. Draco sneered at him, hand slipping into his pocket.

“The sooner we get this over with the better,” he snapped, all but stomping out the door. Ron followed at a distance.

“So did you get Harry’s letter?” he asked casually. Draco spun around so quickly he tripped on his robes and stumbled into the wall. Ron snorted.

“What letter?” Draco asked hastily, pushing himself off the wall. Ron quirked an eyebrow at him.

“The one that Harry sent you,” he repeated dryly. Draco glanced off to the side, frowning, and then glared at Ron.

“Does he tell you _everything?_ ” he asked rhetorically, running a hand through his hair.

“Yep,” Ron replied. “ _Everything_.” There was something about the way he said it that made Draco blink and look at him. His brow furrowed.

“Ev…everything?” he repeated uncertainly. Ron smirked.

“Eeeverything,” he confirmed. Draco cursed.

“Fucking hell!” he spat, hands closing into fists.

“So you got the letter, then?” Ron said, smiling in a self-satisfied sort of way.

“I might have,” Draco snapped, crossing his arms. “What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me?” Ron frowned. “Look, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that he’s my best mate, right?” The boy stepped forward, and Draco belatedly realized that he was now unwillingly trapped against the wall. He glared up at the Gryffindor, annoyed that the redhead was so much taller then himself. “So if you do anything, _anything_ to hurt him-”

“Ron?” somebody interrupted, and Draco’s eyes went wide as Ron backed away quickly.

“Hey, Harry,” Ron said innocently. Draco stared straight ahead, refusing to look at the new arrival. Harry walked forward, looking questioningly at Ron.

“What were you-” Then he caught sight of Draco, and he stopped abruptly. “Draco,” he breathed, and despite himself Draco’s eyes were immediately drawn to him.

He’d never felt so uncomfortable in Harry’s presence before in his life.

“Well, I think I’ll just go continue my rounds,” Ron said loudly. Neither of the other two boys looked at him, so he shrugged and ambled off down the corridor, whistling. Harry stepped towards Draco, who in turn tried to flatten himself against the wall.

“Draco,” Harry said again. The blond sucked in a breath. “Did you-”

“ _Yes_ , I got your bloody letter!” Draco unwittingly snapped. Harry blinked and took half a step back and Draco suddenly found himself reaching toward him. “Wait!” Both boys paused, Draco’s arm hanging in midair before it dropped back to his side. “I got your letter,” he said again, softly. His brow furrowed. “It was a bit short, though.”

“I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you,” Harry grinned awkwardly. “I’m not a very wordy sort of bloke.”

“Good,” Draco smirked, crossing his arms. “Because if you’d sent me flowers and poems I would have tossed them into the fire.” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“So I take it you _didn’t_ do that with my letter?” he asked, amused. Draco blinked, pursing his lips.

“I might not have,” he said, resting his head back against the wall. Harry beamed at him. “Not that I framed it or anything,” Draco quickly added.

“Of course not,” Harry smirked. “So…how was your break?”

“It was…interesting,” Draco replied, glancing off to the side. He couldn’t believe it had been three weeks since he’d seen Harry. Most of the days had been unbearably long with only his mother as company.

And if Harry didn’t kiss him in the next five seconds…

Draco jerked, blinking rapidly and wondering where that thought had come from.

“And…how was yours?” he asked. Harry shrugged.

“It was fun. I got to see Ron’s oldest brothers again. Do you know who any of them are?” Draco shook his head. “Ah, well, Bill’s incredibly fit-” Draco’s eyes shot towards Harry and narrowed. “-but he’s going out with Fleur Delacour. From the Triwizard Tournament. Do you remember her?” How could Draco _not_ remember her? His dorm mates had been drooling over her for months-

Wait.

Draco frowned. That was right, wasn’t it? He hadn’t looked twice at the part-veela, though his friends wouldn’t shut up about her.

Damn, he hated picking up all the little signs that really should have clued him into something earlier.

“Well goody for _Bill_ ,” Draco drawled.

“Yeah...” Harry murmured, shifting awkwardly. They stared at each other for a couple of silent seconds, and then suddenly they were kissing, mouths meeting hungrily and tongues twining together while their hands gripped at loose clothing. Neither boy was sure who had moved first, but it didn’t matter as they pressed themselves closer together, each desperate to be near the other as they sucked and tasted and reveled in what felt like the first time they’d kissed in _years_ …

A door opening somewhere along the hall made them break apart hastily.

“We can’t do this here,” Draco said quickly, and then wondered why he wanted to do it anywhere at all. But for once he told that part of his brain to fuck off.

“Right,” Harry nodded. “There was an empty compartment in the back. Come on.” The thought briefly flashed through Draco’s mind that, _holy fuck_ , he was about to have sex on a _train_ , but he ignored that too and allowed himself to be dragged down the hall.

Harry poked his head into three different compartments before finally finding an unoccupied one. Slamming the door behind him, he unceremoniously pushed Draco up against the wall and was instantly kissing him again. Draco made a valiant attempt at holding the boy off for about two seconds, and then he was groaning and wrapping one arm around Harry’s neck, submitting to that eager warmth and wetness that was just so _Harry_.

It was hard to admit exactly how much he missed this...

Draco traced his other hand down Harry’s chest, trying to push his robes aside as the other boy helped eagerly, slipping the robes off his shoulders as best he could without breaking the kiss. Draco grinned against his lips.

“I’ve heard that having sex only makes you about twenty times hornier afterwards,” he murmured when Harry finally pulled back so he could work at the tiny buttons on Draco’s shirt. “But I never actually believed it.”

“And do you now?” Harry asked, running his hands down the smooth planes of Draco’s chest. The blond closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall, swallowing as Harry kissed frantically at his chest, tongue brushing teasingly against a nipple.

“Honestly, I’ve never wanked so many times in my own home before,” he admitted, his breath already coming in short gasps. “I’m always afraid my Mother will walk in on me. Didn’t…didn’t deter me this time.” Harry looked up at him and chuckled.

“Finding a private place for any decent amount of time is damn near impossible at the Weasleys,” he said as he straightened back up again. The Gryffindor smirked, rolling his hips forward against the other boy’s to demonstrate his rather obvious arousal. “So now that finally we have some privacy, enough talking, eh?”

With that, Harry claimed Draco’s lips again, slipping his tongue past them to finally, _finally_ explore the other boy’s mouth properly. Draco groaned, thrusting back against Harry, and he deepened the kiss further. They stayed like that for a few moments, tongues sliding sensuously together and hips rutting against one another’s as Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Draco’s waist, wanting to prolong the moment for as long as possible. His hands were hot against Draco’s skin, and the blond groaned again as he practically melted into the other boy, losing himself in the feeling of Harry hard up against him, the spicy smell of his skin and hair assaulting his senses almost as thoroughly as his tongue was. 

Draco slipped his own hands beneath the front of Harry’s shirt, tracing the slightly defined muscles of his stomach. Harry’s breath hitched and he backed away, causing Draco to blink in bewilderment. His confusion didn’t last long though because Harry then dropped to his knees and pushed Draco flat against the wall. Hands worked quickly at the Slytherin’s belt and zipper and before Draco could so much as blink again, Harry’s warm, wet mouth was, oh _fuck_ , surrounding his cock.

Gasping, Draco thrust forward so he could bury himself in that _heat_. Harry chuckled around his member and the vibrations from the back of his throat sent shocks of pleasure up Draco’s spine.

“Oh God, _fuck_ , Potter!” he panted, throwing his head back against the wall. His feet slid further apart, widening his stance, and Harry pressed closer so he could take all of him into his mouth. Draco gasped again, twining his hands into Harry’s unruly hair as arousal pooled in his groin and dear _God_ , how had he survived without this for three weeks?

“You like that?” Harry asked around the tip of Draco’s cock, even though the answer was plainly obvious. He supplemented the question with a quick swirl of his tongue, rendering Draco to moans of mingled frustration and desire before Harry chuckled again and bobbed his head, sucking and running his tongue along the underside of Draco’s length. “Do you have any idea how many times I fantasized about doing this to you while we were on break?” he asked as Draco moaned at the further loss of contact.

“Ah…well then…stop talking…and start s-s-sucking, Potter…” Draco gasped, bucking his hips involuntarily.

Harry very willingly obliged, swallowing him right down to the root and feeling his own cock twitching almost painfully against the prison of his trousers as Draco let out a low, guttural moan. 

Nothing, Harry quickly decided, was quite as erotic as sucking a lusty and extremely hard Draco Malfoy off. 

He made quick work of the Slytherin after that, swirling his tongue at the tip, then dipping his head right down before sucking back up again and again and again as they swayed back and forth with the train. Draco moaned, bucking his hips almost continuously into the other boy’s mouth until he just couldn’t _stand_ it anymore and he felt what seemed like all of his muscles seizing up and then convulsing as his body was wracked from head to toe, spilling salty-hot liquid down the back of Harry’s throat in wave after wave of pleasure.

Harry pulled back, wiping absently at his mouth, and peered up at Draco.

“Alright?” he asked, though Draco knew full well the prat knew it had been amazing.

“Alright,” he answered shakily, nonetheless. Then his legs gave out on him and he slid down the wall into a sitting position, Harry still in between his thighs. The boy grinned as he leaned forward to kiss Draco, and it had to have been one of the weirdest things Draco had ever experienced when he tasted the bitter-saltiness of _himself_ in Harry’s mouth.

When they separated again, Draco’s hand immediately found its way into Harry’s pants, and he’d soon curled his fingers around the velvety skin of Harry’s hard cock. The Gryffindor gasped as pleasure instantly shot through him and he leaned forward, resting his forehead in the crook of Draco’s neck.

“Draco, please…” Harry moaned, and Draco’s lips twitched and he began going at Harry with long, slow pulls. He slid his palm over the slippery head before stroking downwards and _squeezing_ , while sliding his other hand up under Harry’s shirt and over his deliciously smooth skin. 

He gradually sped up as Harry gasped and groaned, gritting his teeth as the boy’s warm breath first brushed against his skin in quickening gasps, then became hot and damp as Harry pressed his open mouth to his throat. Draco’s hand faltered when Harry began sucking gently at his skin and he shivered, but an urgent thrust of Harry’s hips soon had him back in action. Draco tightened his hand and _twisted_ , pulling at Harry even faster as the other boy’s nails dug into the back of his neck. Then, _oh Gods_ , he was trembling against him and moaning and _coming_ , pulsing with heat and sticky wetness into his hand and Draco hadn’t recalled the gooey-warm feeling of Harry’s come on him feeling quite so…erotically _good_.

Breathing heavily, Harry didn’t move his head from Draco’s neck. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and pulled the boy so close to his body that Draco practically ended up right in Harry’s lap. Draco jerked at the unexpected move, clutching the back of Harry’s shirt for balance. Then he relaxed slowly against the other boy, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder and crossing his legs behind his back.

They stayed like that, for how long neither boy knew, but eventually Harry lifted his head and pressed a soft kiss against Draco’s lips. Then he leaned back on his hands and gave the blond a thoughtful look.

“…What?” Draco asked warily, narrowing his eyes slightly. He was still gripping the back of Harry’s shirt. Harry smiled, shrugging a little.

“Nothing,” he replied. Draco finally pulled back, mirroring Harry’s position as he leaned on his own hands. “We should talk,” Harry said eventually.

“So talk,” Draco retorted, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.

“No… I mean about us,” Harry clarified. Draco groaned, abruptly uncrossing his legs from around the Gryffindor and pushing himself to his feet.

“What’s there to talk about?” he asked, turning away as he did up his zipper. Harry shifted, sitting cross-legged now and leaning on his knees.

“Well, what we’re doing, for one,” he said in a ‘this-should-be-obvious-to-you’ kind of tone. Draco paused with one arm through his robe, and glanced at Harry.

“We’re not _doing_ anything, Potter.”

“The fuck we aren’t!” Harry exclaimed, also rising to his feet. “Draco-”

“ _Malfoy_.”

“ _Draco_ -”

“What?!” Draco snapped, whirling around to face Harry. “What? _What_ do you want me to say?”

“Why are you being so difficult all of a sudden?!” Harry yelled, crossing his arms in annoyance.

“Because this is who I am!” Draco yelled right back. “Because that’s how I’ve always been and it’s how I’ll _always_ be! Did you think I was suddenly going to be different? That I’d suddenly be all flowers and sunshine for _you?_ ”

“What- No!” Harry blinked, his brow furrowing.

“What do you want from me?!” Draco continued obliviously. “What could you _possibly_ want from _me?_ What did you think would come from this?!”

“I don’t- I wasn’t- Draco!”

“Just because you’re fucking _Harry Potter_ you think you’ll get fucking everything presented to you on a _fucking_ silver platter! Well, not me! I’m _not_ just going to fall into your arms. I’ve got duties and-and obligations to my _family_ , to the Malfoy _name_ -”

“Fuck, Draco, what the hell are you talking about?!” Harry interrupted loudly, finally getting the other boy’s attention. Draco glared at him, breathing heavily. “It’s not like I’m…like I’m asking for your hand in _marriage_ here. I just-”

“You just _what?_ ” Draco sneered. “What, _exactly_ , are you expecting, Potter?”

“I’m not expecting anything!” Harry insisted. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“So what, you want to be fuck-buddies? Is that it?”

“God- _no_. Where are you coming up with all this?” Harry asked, honestly confused. He looked at Draco helplessly. “I’m not asking you to turn on your family, I never even thought of that!” Draco gave him a pointed look, and Harry conceded with a roll of his eyes, “Ok, _Voldemort_ is not your family. I mean…you can go off and get married and have a million Malfoy babies or whatever. That’s _not_ something I want you to give up!”

“…Then what _is_ it you want?” Draco asked uncertainly. Harry sighed, looking away.

“I don’t know…” he said softly. “To date? To go out, to…to _do_ stuff together? To-”

“To be _boyfriends?_ ” Draco asked doubtfully, raising his eyebrows.

“To be a _couple_ ,” Harry said adamantly. “Like _normal_ people.” Draco let out a short laugh.

“Potter, we are _not_ normal people,” he muttered. “We’re _gay_.” Harry opened his mouth to retort to that, but he paused suddenly.

“… _We’re?_ ” he repeated. Draco blinked, and his eyes widened slightly.

“ _You’re_ ,” he corrected himself quickly. “You’re gay.” Harry raised an eyebrow, so Draco hastily continued, “And anyway, you’re the fucking boy-who-lived and I’m the son of a convicted Death Eater… What could possibly come of that?”

“Nothing, I guess,” Harry shrugged, still eying him shrewdly. “But if you’re supposed to go off and continue the Malfoy name, then I guess that’s alright. I mean, it’d have to be alright…right?” Draco frowned, crossing his arms. “We have a year-and-a-half of school left,” Harry pointed out. “That’s more than enough time to have a…fling? Short-term _relationship?_ ”

“An affair?” Draco asked in a low voice. Harry shrugged again, looking away.

“If that’s what you want…” he said quietly, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt.

“And we’d keep it a secret?” Draco asked in the same tone as before. Harry winced almost unnoticeably, but nodded. “You wouldn’t tell _anyone?_ ”

“God, Malfoy, whatever you want,” Harry said tiredly.

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANT!” Draco exploded, arms falling from across his chest as his hands curled into fists at his sides. “THAT’S NOT. FUCKING. _ENOUGH!_ ” Startled, Harry actually took half a step back, blinking rapidly.

“What the hell _do_ you want, then?!” he exclaimed.

“A fucking lot more than _that_ ,” Draco spat. “What _is_ it with everyone and their _flings_ and _affairs?_ First Pansy and now you! You think I can just…just give this up?” He spread his arms out wide. “It’s who I am! It’s a fucking _part_ of me now! I can’t just go around dating blokes for two years and then up and marry some _girl_.” Harry blinked again.

“Huh?”

“Oh, for the love of-” Draco grimaced. “Would you like me to spell it out for you?” He sighed, arms dropping back to his side. “I like _boys_ , ok? I _do_. Thanks very much in part to _Pansy_ who had to go and scare the last of the girl-love out of me.”

“Um…” Harry’s brow furrowed.

“Don’t hurt yourself over it,” Draco muttered, moving quickly towards the door. His cheeks felt warm as he recalled what he’d just said. _Admitted_. And not just about being gay. Had he really just told Harry that he wanted more than what Harry had offered? _Did_ he want more? Draco wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

“Draco, wait!” Harry said, hurriedly throwing himself in front of the door. “You can’t say something like that and then just _leave_.” Draco frowned, pausing inches from Harry.

“Potter, let me out,” he practically growled.

“No,” Harry refused, shaking his head. “We’re going to talk this over-”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Draco said, turning away slightly. Harry’s brow furrowed.

“Did you mean it?” he asked.

“That I’m gay? Yes,” Draco replied testily, crossing his arms.

“No, not that. I mean, I’m glad you told me, but…I…the other thing you said,” Harry tried to catch Draco’s eyes, but the boy was stubbornly looking away. “You want _more_ than a relationship that would last a year-and-a-half? That’s…that’s a long time, you know…” Draco pursed his lips, glaring at Harry from the corner of his eye.

“I _know_ , and I doubt we’d actually last longer than a week-”

“Oy!”

“-but that’s not the point!” Draco turned and faced Harry fully. “If we’re going to try and start something, the _last_ thing we should do is put a time limit on it!” Harry stared at him.

“Ok, who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?” he quipped. Draco scowled and tried to push past him to the door. “No, stop, I’m sorry!” Harry quickly placated him, sliding in front of him again. “It’s just…I mean, you’re the one with the _duties_ and _obligations_ , right? I don’t see how you can rant about that one minute and then get mad at _me_ the next just because I was trying to offer some sort of a…a _solution_.”

“Well I-” Draco paused, sighed, and walked to one of the nearby walls. He stood there silently for a minute and then sighed again and sunk to the ground. “I’m confused, I guess,” he admitted quietly.

“About what?” Harry asked, sitting down next to him. Draco gave him a flat look.

“What do you think? You’re _Harry Potter_ -”

“Ok, I think we’ve established who I am enough times for one day,” Harry interrupted dryly. Draco snorted.

“Well how could anything realistically work out between us? What would people think?”

“No one really seems to mind it,” Harry said.

“No one _who?_ ” Draco retorted. “No one at Hogwarts? None of our _classmates?_ ”

“Well, yeah…” Harry replied. “I mean, a few people have given me...um… _less-than-pleased_ looks the past couple of weeks, but the majority-”

“Merlin, Potter, get your head out of the clouds!” Draco snapped. “My guess is there are very few of our peers who actually take this-this _thing_ between us seriously. They’re all too amused that it’s _you_ and _me_ who’re involved. Homosexuality isn’t widely accepted in the wizarding world, you know.”

“It’s not?” Harry asked, startled.

“Fuck no,” Draco muttered. “Especially among purebloods. _We must continue the pureblood family lines_ and all that rot. But even in general, the wizarding world is small enough that it’s definitely looked down upon when you choose not to…procreate.”

“Oh,” was Harry’s soft reply to that.

“I can’t even imagine what my Mother would say,” Draco murmured.

“You didn’t tell her?”

“Did you tell the Weasleys?”

“Point…” Harry sighed loudly.

“But fuck them,” Draco said suddenly. “We can do whatever the fuck we want, right?” Harry smiled slightly.

“Right,” he agreed. Then he looked at Draco uncertainly. “But…how does Voldemort feel about it?” Draco blinked, frowning.

“The Dark Lord? Er…not sure, actually. I guess I’ll find out eventually.”

“ _Draco_ ,” Harry groaned.

“Look, can we _not_ make that a focal point in…in…in whatever the hell it is we’re going to call this?” Draco groused. Harry brightened.

“So there is a _this_ then?”

“I-…well, isn’t there?” Draco asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Harry promptly answered, grinning.

“Right,” Draco breathed, sounding relieved. “I mean, we can do this, right? We can _try_ at least.”

“Of course!” Harry nodded.

“Don’t expect me to get all lovey-dovey, though,” Draco warned. “I refuse to…to hold hands in the halls or anything of that nature.” Harry nodded again.

“And no flowers or poems. Right, got it.”

“And…and I don’t want to keep it a secret, but I don’t want to go around shouting it to the heavens either.”

“Right, no bragging that I’m fucking a Malfoy.”

“And don’t you dare go easy on me when we play you in Quidditch either-”

“Ha! Like that would do any good.”

“And don’t expect _me_ to stop teasing you in Potions or anyth-” Draco was cut off when Harry leaned over and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips. The blond spluttered, pushing him away, and then wiped his mouth. “What the hell was that?!” he cried. Harry laughed.

“Well you wouldn’t shut up!” he said, grinning. Draco tried to glare at him, but it was hard when his lips kept twitching upwards. Eventually he gave in with a snort, and gave Harry a small, tight-lipped smile. Harry’s grin broadened and he kissed him again.

“God, and here I was looking forward to getting back to _Hogwarts_ so I could see you again,” he laughed. “We’re still on the _train_ and we’ve already established that we’re going to give being boyfriends a shot.” Draco’s smile widened a little. “I didn’t think you’d ever actually agree to something like this.”

“I like doing the unexpected,” Draco quipped, nudging Harry with his shoulder. Harry pushed back, chuckling. “It keeps people on their toes.” Harry chuckled again.

“I suppose I’ll be on my toes a lot around you, then,” he said.

“On your back is more likely,” Draco said, grinning evilly. Harry burst out laughing.

“I think we’ll both spend an equal amount of time in that position,” he said slyly. Draco shrugged, rolling his eyes.

“Well, anything is possible, isn’t it?” he said, ducking his head and glancing to the side at Harry through his fringe. Harry smiled, lifting the boy’s chin with his hand and kissing him softly. His lips lingered there for a moment, though neither made a move to deepen the kiss. Harry raised his eyes to meet Draco’s gaze, and he smiled again, nodding once.

“Anything,” he agreed. And then he kissed Draco again.


	12. Chapter 12

“How do you think they’ll take it?”

“How do I think who will take what?”

“How do you think our friends will take…will take… _this_?”

Draco lifted his head from where it’d been resting against the wall of the train compartment and lazily turned to look at Harry, who was sitting next to him. They’d been in the same position for some time now, Draco sitting with his knees propped up, arms resting atop them, and Harry with his legs stretched out in front of him. The lengths of their sides were pressed together, from shoulder to hip to thigh, and they’d actually been surrounded by a comfortable silence until Harry had broken it.

“You can’t even say it,” Draco said, and Harry would have panicked and tried to reassure him if not for the amused tone the boy had used. So instead he shrugged and rolled his eyes.

“Boyfriends,” he amended, grinning. “How do you think our friends will take us being _boyfriends_?” Draco shrugged this time.

“Who knows,” he said, head falling back against the wall again.

“I really don’t think they’ll mind,” Harry pressed, glancing over.

“Well they’d better not.” Draco sighed, back arching off the wall as he stretched, and shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged. “It _was_ their idea, after all.”

“Hmm,” Harry hummed in agreement, lowering his eyes to take in the pale skin of Draco’s neck.

“The question you should be asking,” Draco continued, though not oblivious to Harry’s stare, “is whether or not we want to tell them right away.” He shifted again, head rolling to the side as his eyes slid closed.

“I thought we decided that we weren’t going to keep this a secret,” Harry murmured, eyes still locked in place.

“We aren’t.”

“So we’ll tell them?”

“We can tell them at dinner, for all I care.” Draco opened one eye and peered at Harry as the boy drew his bottom lip in between his teeth.

“At dinner, then,” Harry said, eyes darting up to meet Draco’s for a brief second, before dropping with a fixated intensity back onto his neck. Draco’s lips twitched into a smirk, as much as he tried to keep his face blank, and he closed his eyes again.

“Alright,” he drawled. There was a few seconds pause, and then Harry all but pounced on the other boy and Draco was doing his best to withhold the laughter that wanted to escape his throat as Harry’s mouth latched onto the skin above his collarbone.

“Sit with me,” Harry murmured, voice muffled since his mouth was otherwise occupied. Draco stiffened slightly and relaxed almost immediately after as Harry’s tongue soothed his skin.

“Sit with you?” he repeated, hand working its way beneath Harry’s shirt and resting on the slight curve in his waist.

“At dinner.” Harry raised his head and met Draco’s eyes. “When we tell them. Ron and Hermione, I mean. We can tell your friends afterwards.”

“My friends, your friends,” Draco scoffed, with a roll of his eyes. “That’s going to have to change.” Harry blinked.

“I suppose,” he said, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Hermione and Pansy are already friends. And…well, actually, I don’t have much of a problem with your friends.”

“That’s because I have good taste.” Draco smirked, and then promptly frowned. His nose wrinkled. “ _You_ , on the other hand…” Harry sat back on his heels, brow furrowed. “Well, _your_ friends are just something I’m going to have to learn to live with.”

“They’re not so bad,” Harry said defensively.

“You would say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It _means_ ,” Draco started to say, rolling his eyes once again, “that of course you’d say that, because they _are_ your friends.”

“Well I can’t just sit here and listen to you badmouth them.”

“Potter, you’ve heard me badmouth them. _That_ was not badmouthing.”

“Well it’s different now, _Draco_ ,” Harry insisted, crossing his arms. “They’re both ok with this, I know that. Even Ron’s willing to tolerate you, but that means you also have to make an effort.”

“An effort?” Draco asked, sneering slightly. Harry frowned.

“Yes, an _effort_. You have to be nice to them.”

“Nice?” Draco grimaced. “Nice to the mudblood and mudblood sympathizer?” Frowning deeper, Harry thumped Draco on the shoulder with his fist, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make the boy wince slightly.

“You’ve barely called her that at all this year, don’t start now,” Harry warned. Then his face softened a little. “Come on, don’t start being difficult already.” Draco’s mouth fell open angrily, but before he said anything he seemed to think things over. His eyes slid shut for a brief second as he took a deep breath, and then he released it and a blank expression settled over his face. Harry watched him carefully, and Draco met his gaze steadily. “Thank you,” Harry said softly. Draco briefly lifted one shoulder in an awkward sort of shrug as he glanced away.

“Sure,” he muttered. Harry leaned to the side so he could meet Draco’s eyes again, and he smiled when the blond finally looked at him. One side of Draco’s mouth quirked upwards.

The train jerked, making Harry jolt slightly. Resting one hand on the floor for balance, he twisted his head around and glanced out the window, watching the rolling scenery slow to a near stop.

“I guess we’re there,” he said quietly, feeling unaccountably nervous. Looking back at Draco, he saw the way his lips were pursed and how his eyes had gone hard, and figured he must be slightly nervous as well. Harry didn’t bother trying to work out when he’d become able to note the changes in Draco’s expression so easily.

Standing, he held a hand out to the other boy. Draco stared at it for a long moment, and then slowly grasped it with his own and allowed Harry to pull him up.

“Draco,” Harry murmured, the other boy’s hand still warm in his own grip and trapped between their bodies as they stood nearly flush against each other. Draco looked at him expectantly, but suddenly Harry wasn’t sure what he’d wanted to say, so instead he shrugged and grinned goofily. “Ready?” he asked eventually, feeling the train come to a complete standstill.

“Always,” Draco smirked.

The two boys didn’t leave their compartment until they were pretty sure most everyone else was gone. Harry watched through the window as Hermione and Ron looked around anxiously, and Draco snorted from beside him when Pansy showed up with a worried look on her face. Blaise came up behind her with an annoyed expression, and Crabbe and Goyle trudged after him, looking slightly lost.

“You know, if they were really that worried about us, they’d have checked the entire train,” Draco drawled as he and Harry stepped out into the evening light and tried to find a fairly empty carriage. Harry grinned in agreement, though it became slightly forced as he veered away from the thestrals. It was creepy, the way they looked at him as if they could tell he was one of the few on the platform who knew they were there. Draco glanced at him curiously as they climbed into a carriage with two third-year Ravenclaws. “What are they like?” he asked carefully, once they’d settled down. Harry looked at him sharply, ignoring the star-struck looks bestowed upon him by the third-years.

“Thestrals?”

“Yeah,” Draco nodded, looking out the window as if he was trying to spot one.

“They’re…interesting,” Harry answered at length. “Big, black horses of death. Only they kind of look a bit like dragons, too. Sort of.” Draco whistled in approval.

“I wish I could see them,” he murmured, still craning his neck towards the window. Harry went stiff for a moment, and his silence seemed to draw Draco’s attention back to him. The boy’s eyes widened. “Oh-”

“No, don’t,” Harry said quickly. “It’s fine.” Draco looked uncertain, but at least he’d given up trying to catch a glimpse of one. “I rode one last summer,” Harry said abruptly. This quickly gathered the interest of the Ravenclaws again, though Harry wasn’t even sure they knew what thestrals were. He certainly hadn’t, at their age.

“Oh yeah?” Draco asked interestedly. Harry nodded.

“Ron and Hermione, too. Of course, they couldn’t see them so I imagine it was a completely different experience.”

“Probably,” Draco agreed. It dawned on Harry, then, that he and Draco didn’t really have much to talk about. Well, it wasn’t that they _didn’t_ , it was just that they’d never really had the chance to talk before and now all of a sudden neither of them could think of anything to say. In fact, the train ride had been the longest they’d ever spent in the other’s company, with no on else around, and most of it had been spent in silence.

Except for the sex part.

Harry frowned, not really sure where his thoughts were leading him. Then Draco slid over so that their thighs were touching and grabbed his hand, threading their fingers together and studiously ignoring the sudden wide-eyed look of their traveling partners, and Harry decided it wasn’t really important.

* * *

“Where on earth do you think he is?” Hermione whispered to Ron as Professor Dumbledore made his welcome-back speech. Ron shrugged, too busy staring longingly at his empty plate. “I hardly saw him at all for the whole ride,” Hermione continued, looking back over her shoulder at the Slytherin table. “Malfoy’s still not here either.”

“No, no, Hermione. It’s _Draco_ now, remember?” Ron said sullenly, twirling his fork around his fingers in a bored manner.

“Draco, right,” Hermione huffed, neck still twisted around. “You don’t think he did anything…do you?”

“Well if he did, it’s _your_ fault,” Ron groused. Plates of food suddenly appeared as Dumbledore wrapped up his speech, and Ron stabbed viciously at a bowl of boiled potatoes.

“It would _not_ be my fault!” Hermione exclaimed in an affronted tone.

“You’re the one that pushed it!” Ron retorted. “Of all the blokes you could have picked, you had to go and team up with _Pansy_ and shove Harry into…into…into _whatever-the-hell-it-is_ with Malfoy!”

“You said you were ok with it!” Hermione snapped, unrolling her napkin and shoving it into her lap.

“Yeah, I’m ok with it,” Ron muttered sarcastically. “I can accept it but it doesn’t mean that I have to like it! Or _him_.” Hermione pursed her lips and went to reach for the pumpkin juice pitcher when Seamus suddenly leaned across her and pointed toward the entrance with his fork.

“There he is,” he said through a mouthful of…something, though Hermione was too disgusted to try and figure out what. Frowning, she pushed Seamus out of her way and looked over at the doors to the Great Hall. Harry had just stepped through them, apparently trying to look inconspicuous, and Draco followed at a much more leisurely pace. A glance up at the high table showed that most of the teachers hadn’t missed anything. Professor McGonagall was frowning, Professor Snape was sneering more heavily than usual, and even Professor Dumbledore had lost the all-knowing look and appeared to be slightly curious as to why his prized Gryffindor student was sneaking in through the doors with Slytherin’s resident evil-doer. Hermione’s attention snapped back to Harry when the boy slid into the seat they had saved across from her.

“Hello,” he said, sounding like a guilty person trying immensely hard to hide something and failing spectacularly. He scooted over as far as he could, and Hermione watched as Draco slipped haltingly into the space next to Harry and began fiddling with his cup. She realized then that he wasn’t at all as calm as he appeared to be. She also noticed that, while however many of the teachers had noticed, not very many other students seemed to realize Hogwarts’ two biggest rivals sitting next to each other at dinner.

Ron paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, though, and on Hermione’s other side Seamus’ chewing slowly slowed to a stop. From his seat beside Harry, Dean was doing remarkably well at pretending that nothing unusual was happening, but Neville was quickly inching away from Draco. So while the rest of the hall still chattered loudly, it was suddenly deathly quiet over in their little quarter.

Harry coughed slightly, cheeks flaring with color as he reached for the roasted ham, and Draco ducked his head for about a second before he raised his chin defiantly and poured himself a drink. And that was all Hermione needed to jolt her back into action.

“Evening, Harry, Draco,” she said cheerfully, suddenly more relieved than anything that she really had been worrying over nothing. Seamus swallowed his food and Ron put down his fork and took a huge swig from his drink instead. “How was your ride?” Harry choked and Hermione was sure she saw Draco hide a smirk behind his cup.

“Um, it was fine,” Harry replied weakly, still coughing. His cheeks flushed again. Seamus chuckled, catching Harry’s eye and making the boy’s blush deepen even further, and Ron groaned.

“Look,” Draco said, nudging Harry with his elbow. “Pansy’s wondering what the hell I’m doing sitting at the Gryffindor table.” He grinned cheekily and waved lazily at her.

“Yeah, like that won’t get everyone’s attention,” Harry muttered, catching the exasperated look on Pansy’s face and grinning as well.

“So what the hell _are_ you doing sitting at the Gryffindor table?” Ron asked as he angrily pushed food around on his plate. Draco glanced at him, lips curling up into a sneer, but before he could say anything he jerked suddenly and turned his glare on Harry, who was eating calmly and pointedly not looking at anything. This might have seemed odd, if not for the fact that one of Harry’s hands was suspiciously absent from the top of the table.

Hermione resisted the urge to peek underneath it.

“Because I felt like it,” Draco finally answered, one of his hands also slipping beneath the table. Hermione fidgeted, catching Draco’s attention. The boy smirked at her, while Harry’s face seemed to be stuck with a permanent blush.

“Draco and I are going out,” Harry finally blurted, followed immediately by, “Would you please pass the potatoes?”

There was a slight pause as everyone tried to work out what he’d just had said, and then Ron groaned again and folded his arms across the table, slamming his head down on top of them. Draco glared at Ron, Seamus grinned widely, Neville gasped, and Hermione reached over and clasped Harry’s free hand in her own.

“Congratulations,” she said earnestly, eyes shifting to meet Draco’s as well. Dean shifted, and suddenly he was holding a bowl of potatoes under Harry’s nose.

“Do you want the gravy, too?” he asked. Ron lifted his head a fraction and gave Draco a disgruntled look, before turning to Harry.

“You’re still going to be _my_ partner in potions.”

Hermione smiled.

* * *

“Well that could’ve gone a lot worse,” Harry muttered as he and Draco exited the Great Hall a short while later. Draco snorted. “I’m serious!”

“What did you expect?” Draco asked. “That all of your friends would turn their backs and never speak to you again?” Harry shrugged, bumping Draco in the shoulder.

“Wasn’t sure _what_ to expect, really. I mean, they all _said_ they’d be ok with it…but, you know…” Draco sighed, and bumped Harry back, before stepping a couple feet away.

“Probably shouldn’t walk too close,” he muttered. Harry frowned, but nodded slightly. “Are you going to come with me?” Draco asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Come with you where?”

“To the Slytherin common room.”

“What for?” Draco turned around so that he was walking backwards, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his robe.

“Well, we’re out of the lion’s den,” he replied, smirking, “but we still have to survive the snake pit.” Harry laughed. “Come with me so we can tell Pansy and the others.”

“Yeah, alright,” Harry said. He followed Draco all the way down to the dungeons, wondering why he was still trailing behind the other boy. It’s not like it wasn’t already odd that he was down there in the first place.

Draco paused outside a bare stretch of wall, turning to Harry uncertainly. Harry grinned. “Unless they’ve changed the password since before break, I already know it,” he said.

“Oh, right,” Draco said, blinking. He muttered the password and after the wall slid open, he paused. Harry stepped up behind him, resting a hand on the small of his back, and Draco leaned back almost imperceptibly against him.

“Ready?” Harry whispered.

“No,” was Draco’s blunt response. Harry chuckled.

“What are you worried about?” he asked.

“Potter, my friends are a bit different than yours,” Draco said, frowning. Harry sighed, moving his hand around to Draco’s hip and resting his chin on Draco’s shoulder.

“But they’re still your friends, right?”

“Well, yes…”

“So like you said, they’re not just going to turn their backs and never speak to you again,” Harry said, with a slight squeeze of his hand. Draco exhaled harshly through his nose. “I know one thing, though.”

“And what’s that?” Harry leaned heavily against Draco, causing him to stumble forward slightly, and laughed a little.

“If we’re still standing here when everyone gets back from dinner, they’ll know before you get the chance to actually tell them.”

“That’s a very good point,” Draco said in a thoughtful tone. “I have another one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As long as they’re not here, we have the whole room to ourselves.” Draco twisted his head around, looking at Harry out of the corner of his eye, and smirked. Harry smiled.

“That _is_ a good point,” he breathed. Draco’s smirk stretched until he was positively leering at the other boy.

“Come on.” Grabbing Harry’s sleeve, Draco began dragging him into the Slytherin common room. They stumbled up the stairs to the sixth-year boys’ dormitory and were nearly inside the door when the worst thing that could possibly have happened at that moment, at least in Draco’s humble opinion at any rate, happened.

“ _DRACO!!_ ” a voice screeched, followed immediately by thundering steps coming from the stairwell. Harry blinked and Draco leaned his forehead against the doorjamb, wincing.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and then rolled so that his back was against the wall so he could meet Pansy straight on as she emerged from the stairs.

“Draco, where the _hell_ have you been?” Pansy demanded, stomping up to Draco until she was only inches away from him.

“Hello, Pansy, dear,” Draco greeted dryly. He was ignored.

“I leave you with Weasley, he comes back alone, you disappear for _hours_ , you don’t show up at the beginning of dinner, and when you finally _do_ decide to make an appearance, you sit at the Gryffindor table without giving me any explanation _whatsoever!_ ” Pansy paused in her ranting, breathing heavily, and shoved a finger at Draco’s chest. Draco cocked an eyebrow at her. “Would you like to tell me just _what_ is going on?”

“Pansy…” Draco’s brow furrowed as he fished around for something to say. Reaching out to the side blindly, he groped around until his hand closed around Harry’s wrist and then he pulled the boy forward. Pansy finally seemed to notice he was there, and her eyes widened slightly. “Have you met my…my…my-”

“Boyfriend,” Harry supplied. Draco’s cheeks went pink, and his grip on Harry’s wrist tightened.

“Boyfriend,” he repeated. “Have you met my boyfriend?” Pansy’s jaw dropped as she blinked several times in a row.

“You…you mean you…” Her eyes darted from boy’s face to the other and back again, and then she grinned. “Well it happened faster that I thought it would,” she said, laughing a little breathlessly, “but then, who gives a fuck what I think?” Laughing again, Pansy threw her arms around Draco’s neck and buried her face against his shoulder. Draco froze, eyes widening and seeking out Harry’s, but the other boy was too busy trying to stifle his laughter to be of any help. Grimacing, Draco patted Pansy on the back awkwardly until she finally released him. She then quickly latched onto Harry, and suddenly Draco was the one snickering, though he didn’t even bother to try and hide it.

“Um…thank you…Pansy,” Harry mumbled, rubbing a hand across his neck when Pansy finally stepped back.

“Well, congratulations!” she smirked, meeting each boy’s eyes, a suggestive tone to her voice. “Does this mean I should expect to take over most of the Prefect work, Draco?” Pouting playfully, she continued, “I’m never going to see you anymore! You’ll spend all your nights with _him_.” Pansy jerked a thumb in Harry’s direction. “I’ll officially be the other woman in your life!”

Draco snorted and Harry’s cheeks went red, but neither boy said anything. Pansy laughed and reached up to pat Draco twice on the cheek before backing away. Releasing a very satisfied sounding breath, she beamed at the two boys and moved towards the staircase.

“I’m going to go tell Blaise!” she exclaimed, and was bouncing down the stairs before Draco had a chance to call her back. He gave Harry an exasperated look.

“There, you see?” Harry said, chuckling. “She was fine with it.”

“That’s because she’s still hoping you’re going to _convert_ me,” Draco muttered. Harry frowned slightly, but then shook his head quickly and stepped close to Draco.

“Are we alone now?” he murmured, chest brushing up against the other boy’s. Draco smirked.

“I think-”

“DRACO!”

“-not.” Draco rolled his eyes and shot a disgruntled look at Blaise as the boy thundered up the steps. Theodore was right behind him and actually stumbled into Blaise’s back when he abruptly stopped. Crabbe and Goyle lumbered up after them.

“Draco, Pansy says you and Potter are- oh!” Blaise blinked as he noticed Harry’s close proximity to Draco. Theodore peered beneath the arm Blaise was using to lean against the wall.

“So s’true?” Crabbe grunted.

“Is what true?” Draco asked in a bored manner, as if Harry wasn’t actually standing chest-to-chest with him and was in fact not even in the room. Theodore rolled his eyes, and gestured between Harry and Draco. Harry squirmed under everyone’s stares.

“Are you and…and Potter going out now?” Blaise asked, eyebrows rising.

“Yes,” Draco snapped. There was an awkward silence, and Harry tried to back away from Draco but the boy had a hand fisted around part of his robe, effectively holding him in place.

“Oh,” Blaise said lamely. Theodore cocked an eyebrow, and Crabbe and Goyle exchanged curious looks.

“Right then,” Theodore said, ducking beneath Blaise’s arm and stepping up to Draco. “Is he staying here tonight?” Harry and Draco looked at each other.

“Er…no,” Harry replied, turning to look at Theodore. “No, I should probably be getting back to Gryffindor soon, actually…” Theodore shrugged, clasped Draco on the shoulder, and stepped past him into their room. “Night, then,” he said.

“Ah, well…congrats, Draco,” Blaise spoke up again. He glanced at Harry and then shifted his gaze back to Draco, grinning. “I’m happy for you.” Draco nodded, and Harry felt his grip on his robes loosening slightly. Still grinning, and actually snickering a little, Blaise disappeared through the door to the bedroom. Draco let out a relieved breath.

“Not nearly as bad as you thought it would be, eh?” Harry asked, leaning against Draco’s chest. Draco smirked and fisted his other hand into Harry’s robes as well, pulling the boy up against him.

“I guess not,” he murmured, and was about to kiss Harry when he paused suddenly. “Is there a reason you’re still standing there?” he asked snidely, making Harry blink in confusion before he realized Draco was talking to Crabbe and Goyle.

“Oh, no,” Goyle mumbled. Crabbe shook his head.

“Then go away and leave us alone,” Draco snapped. Both boys shuffled quickly into the room, and Draco made sure the door was shut behind them before he finally turned and met Harry’s lips in a heated, open-mouthed kiss. Harry grinned, eyes sliding shut as he flicked his tongue out to touch Draco’s briefly, before Draco pulled back and rested his forehead against the other boy’s.

“I’ve just realized how hard it’s going to be to find some privacy around here,” Harry said softly.

“I guess we’ll just have to continue using the Room of Requirement,” Draco said dryly, meeting Harry’s gaze.

“Meet me there tomorrow night?”

“What time?”

“Nine?” Harry took a step back, hands running down Draco’s arms and closing gently around his wrists.

“Nine sounds good,” Draco replied. Harry pinned Draco’s arms above his head against the wall and leaned in against him again.

“Good,” he grinned. Draco smirked and rolled his hips out. Harry stifled a groan and tried his best not to thrust back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he whispered instead.

“Tomorrow,” Draco agreed. Harry pressed a quick kiss to his lips, and then backed away.

“G’night, Draco,” he called as he moved down the stairs.

“Goodnight…Harry,” Draco replied quietly. Harry spun around, grinning widely. Draco shrugged once and gave him a thin-lipped smile.

“Night,” Harry repeated. He lingered on the steps for awhile longer, holding Draco’s gaze, and then eventually turned around and left the Slytherin common room.

* * *

While it was true that Harry and Draco had decided they didn’t want to keep their relationship a secret, that didn’t necessarily mean that they were ready for a lot of people to find out about it yet. But, as things go, they hadn’t actually told anyone that they wanted to keep it under wraps at first, so one or two of their friends mentioned it to other friends, people overheard, the rumors started, the truth spread, and by lunchtime the next day nearly every student in fourth year and up knew that Hogwarts’ most passionate rivalry was now fueled by a passion of a completely different nature.

“Bugger,” Draco muttered as a seventh year Ravenclaw brushed past him with a sneer. A couple of younger girls nearby pointed and giggled. “Bloody gossiping wenches.” He was on his way to Potions, and everywhere he looked there was someone winking at him, smirking, or frowning. It wasn’t anything new, really, because ever since the Saturday parties he’d been on the receiving end of all sorts of looks like these. The only difference was that there were suddenly a lot more disgusted glares than there used to be.

“Draco!” someone called. Draco spun around and caught sight of Harry rushing down the corridor towards him. “Draco, hey,” Harry panted, reaching out to lean against the wall.

“Hey,” Draco replied, frowning. Harry peered at him.

“Something wrong?” he asked. Draco shifted, casting a quick glance around before returning his attention to Harry.

“You don’t think this’ll end up in the papers, do you?” he blurted, brow furrowing as he chewed absently on his bottom lip. Harry’s eyebrows went up.

“What?”

“This!” Draco said exasperatedly, gesturing between himself and Harry. “Do you think the Daily Prophet will somehow get word of it?” Harry’s eyes widened.

“God, I hope not,” he said in a rush. Draco’s mouth clamped shut and he looked taken aback. “I mean- No, that’s not what I meant,” Harry said quickly. Draco frowned. “I just… Merlin, I hate the Prophet! They always run stories about me that are _completely_ untrue. I can’t even imagine what they’d say about this.” Harry paused for a second, and then gave Draco an annoyed look. “Of course most of those other stories were _your_ fault.”

“Heh,” Draco shrugged and smirked, before frowning again. “I’d just rather not have my mother find out that way,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Or worse, I’d hate for word to reach my father…” Harry grimaced and nodded in agreement.

“I don’t imagine that would go over very well.” Draco slowly shook his head.

“No.”

“Are you going to tell your mum?” Harry asked. Draco took a deep breath and began fiddling with the cuffs on his robe. “Draco,” Harry said in a low voice.

“Fuck, Harry, I’ll tell her eventually!” Draco groused, turning away and walking towards the Potions classroom. “Just…give me some time.” Harry sighed, quickly following the other boy.

“Sorry,” he murmured, wanting to reach for Draco’s hand but refraining because they’d finally reached Potions.

“S’ok,” Draco replied. They stepped through the door, ignoring how the room suddenly went quiet, and Harry promptly lost twenty points from Gryffindor for _making Draco late_. Rolling his eyes, Harry slid into his seat beside Ron and prepared himself for class with an angrier-than-usual Snape.

* * *

“You know, you’d lose a lot less points in Potions if you actually paid attention to what was going on,” Draco commented later that evening when he and Harry finally were able to meet up in the Room of Requirement. He dropped his robes onto the couch and quickly pulled his shirt off, leaving his blond hair tousled, and he blew upwards in annoyance, trying to get his fringe out of his eyes.

“Snape was out for blood today,” Harry grumbled, sitting down on the edge of the bed and yanking off his shoes. “I doubt even if I’d memorized every potion in the book, he’d have let me off easy. He’s probably heard the rumors, you know.”

“Well they’re not really rumors, now are they?” Draco smirked, walking over and promptly straddling Harry’s hips. Harry grinned, leaning back on his hands as Draco slipped his own up Harry’s shirt.

“No, I guess not,” he replied.

“Lift up,” Draco ordered, and Harry obediently raised his arms above his head so Draco could pull his shirt off. He dropped it on the floor in front of the bed, and then quickly moved forward-

-and immediately yelped as his nose smashed into Harry’s, who’d also been leaning in for a kiss. 

“Ow!”

“Shit!”

“Fuck, Harry,” Draco muttered, voice sounding even more nasally than usual as he rubbed his now sore nose.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled back, both hands covering his own face. His cheeks went slightly red but he snickered nonetheless.

“Shut up,” Draco snapped, but then he laughed shortly. “Ow,” he said again, just for the hell of it. He pulled his hand away from his nose and scowled at Harry. “If I’ve got some sort of hideous bruise covering my face tomorrow…”

“Just marking my territory,” Harry quipped, still snickering. “Try again?”

“Yes,” Draco smirked, and he moved forward again, albeit a bit more carefully, and claimed Harry’s lips in a searing kiss. Their mouths met, hot, wet, and slick, and Draco groaned as he swept his tongue across Harry’s. Harry arched up eagerly, cupping the nape of Draco’s neck and then threading his fingers into the boy’s silky tresses. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Draco gasped as he broke away. Harry licked his lips and nodded vigorously.

“You and me both,” he said breathlessly, before pulling Draco back against him. There was a flurry of motion after that, much snogging and wriggling and frenzied disrobing that ended with Draco lying aroused and panting amongst the numerous pillows, an equally hard and breathless Harry sprawled on top of him, and their clothing strewn all about the room.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Draco urged, a flush staining his cheekbones and chest as he thrust his hips up against Harry’s, sending brain-addling shockwaves through Harry’s body from his now aching cock. Harry gasped then paused, trying to clear his head so he could regain some sensibility. “Did you bring the lube?” Draco panted.

“Of course,” Harry answered immediately, looking over to the nightstand to make sure it was still there beside his glasses.

“Then let’s go!” Draco whined, rutting his hips continually up against Harry’s and wrapping an arm around the back of his neck. He pulled Harry down to kiss him again, reaching out with his free hand to blindly grope for the container of lube. Harry snatched it from him, breaking away from Draco and sucking in deep breaths.

“Wait…wait, Draco,” he panted, straightening up so that he was sitting across Draco’s hips. Draco thrust upward again, the tip of his prick brushing against Harry’s and Harry groaned. “God, Draco!”

“Come on, Harry!” Draco snapped, nose wrinkling as he glared petulantly at the boy above him. “It’s been three fucking weeks-”

“Yes, exactly!” Harry cut in, meeting Draco’s eyes. “Three weeks. Three _long_ weeks.”

“Your point?” Draco growled, running his hands along Harry’s chest. The other boy smacked them away, leaning down so he could peer closely at Draco.

“It’s going to be like we’ve never done this before,” he said slowly, watching as realization dawned in Draco’s eyes.

“…Oh,” he said, a bit weakly.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “So we need to be careful. Take it slow again.”

“Fuck.”

“Draco?”

“Fuck!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Harry asked nervously.

“Are you telling me it’s going to be like the first time all over again?” Draco exclaimed, eyes going wide. Harry coughed.

“Erm, well, not _exactly_ like the first time,” he mumbled, cheeks going slightly red. Draco groaned.

“Bloody hell,” he spat.

“Look, I know what I’m doing now-”

“Oh, because you’ve had _so_ much practice!”

“Would you mind not making this anymore difficult than it has to be?” Harry snapped, hands clenching around the jar he was holding. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry, ok? I’m really sorry I screwed up so badly the first time.” Draco shrugged awkwardly, glancing away.

“You couldn’t have known,” he mumbled.

“Well, I do now. Alright?” Draco nodded, and Harry grinned slightly. “Alright,” he said again. “Roll over.”

“What?” Draco asked quickly, eyes snapping back around to meet Harry’s.

“ _Roll over_ ,” Harry repeated, smirking a little. Draco eyed him warily.

“Why?”

“Just…because,” Harry answered. “We don’t always have to do it face-to-face, you know.”

“But I _like_ doing it face-to-face,” Draco said.

“And so do I, but I want to try something.”

“…Try something…” Draco repeated faintly. Harry nodded. Breathing a bit more rapidly, Draco shifted, sighed, slowly turned onto his stomach, and exhaled shakily. He felt Harry’s hands settle onto his shoulders.

“Relax, Draco,” Harry urged.

“Shut the fuck up, Potter,” Draco groused, and he was rewarded with a quick slap across his arse. “Oy!” he exclaimed, twisting around to glare at Harry. The boy simply raised an eyebrow at him and gestured for him to turn back around. Draco did with an annoyed huff, resting his chin on his hands.

Harry leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the back of Draco’s shoulder. He opened his mouth so he could run his tongue hotly along Draco’s skin, and continued doing so all across the boy’s back, leaving a trail of wet saliva as he moved along. Pulling back slightly, Harry blew gently against the path he’d left, feeling the tremors run up Draco’s sides at the sudden shift from hot to cold. The boy gasped, and Harry grinned, dipping his tongue into the slight bumps of Draco’s spine.

“Did I mention to you what Seamus got me for Christmas?” Harry murmured, breath brushing warmly across his partner’s back. Draco shivered again.

“N-n-no,” he stuttered, too caught up in the sensations Harry was providing to care what Finnegan’s idea of a gift was. He felt Harry’s lips stretch into a grin as another kiss was pressed to his skin.

“We’ll have to thank him later,” Harry whispered, and then he was again trailing the tip of his tongue down Draco’s spine. He reached the curve of Draco’s arse and paused for a moment, watching as Draco froze beneath him.

“Um…Harry…” Draco said softly, staring wide-eyed at the headboard in front of him as he tried to figure out what exactly Harry was planning to do. Harry ignored him, placing his hands gently on the swell of his arse instead. Draco’s breathing quickened, and his eyes went even wider when he felt Harry spreading him apart and breathing hotly across his hole. 

“H-Harry…” Draco was wholly unprepared for the feel of Harry’s tongue swiping wetly over his entrance, and he literally jumped and yelped quite spectacularly. One hand came up to grab at the headboard while his other arm propped itself up on his elbow so that he could twist around and stare in shock at Harry. Somehow he’d also ended up with his knees tucked under him.

And Harry was grinning at him. Or leering, really.

“What…what…” Draco’s breaths were coming in shaky gasps. “What the _hell_ was that?!” he cried.

“A little something I picked up,” Harry answered smugly.

Draco’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to blurt out, “From _who?_ ”

“Seamus,” Harry said, and Draco’s eyes immediately narrowed. Harry laughed. “No! No, he got me this book for Christmas,” he explained. Draco still looked suspicious.

“A book?” he repeated. Harry nodded.

“Yep! And you’re the only one who knows I’ve got it,” he said. “For obvious reasons. Now turn back around again.”

“Why? Are you…ah…”

“Yes,” Harry replied promptly, even though Draco hadn’t actually asked anything yet. Draco frowned.

“But…”

“ _Draco_.”

“But that’s disgusting!” Draco exclaimed. Harry shrugged, smirking.

“Nah, not really.” Draco blinked and slowly turned back around, almost unable to believe this was happening. That Harry would actually _want_ to do…that. “S’called rimming,” Harry added as an afterthought, apparently already getting back to business because Draco could feel his warm breath brushing over him again.

“It’s gross,” Draco mumbled, ignoring the shivers that shot up his spine.

“You’ll like it,” Harry assured him.

“Doubtful,” Draco said, twisting his head around again to meet Harry’s eyes. The other boy smiled.

“Draco, trust me,” he said simply.

“But-”

“ _Trust. Me._ ” Draco blinked and faced the headboard once again.

“I trust you,” he whispered, balancing himself on his hands and knees. His fingers unconsciously twisted themselves into the soft material of the bed cover as he braced himself for God knew what. And then Harry’s tongue was back, sweeping over him, and Draco gasped as his thighs tightened involuntarily. Harry began licking his sensitive skin then, running his tongue over and around Draco’s sphincter and Draco couldn’t stop the groan from escaping his lips. His face felt hot and he knew he was blushing, mortified that something as nasty as what Harry was doing was actually making his cock twitch and stir.

Draco could feel his blush spreading down his neck and across his chest, but then again his whole body suddenly felt hot so maybe it had nothing to do with being embarrassed at all. Harry’s tongue circled his entrance again, before his mouth moved lower to suck lightly at the skin right behind his balls. Draco twitched, gasped, and moaned low in his throat all at once and resigned himself to the fact that this _rimming_ thing that Harry was doing felt fucking _good_. His hand came up to grasp at the headboard, and when Harry moved his mouth back up to lick at Draco’s sensitive skin once again, Draco couldn’t help himself from thrusting back into his partner’s face.

This only seemed to spur Harry into more action, because suddenly his hands were spreading Draco’s arse cheeks further apart and tongue was driving into him with short, quick jabbing motions.

“Oh God- Harry!” Draco gasped, pushing back against that wet muscle once again. Harry probed deeper, but it wasn’t enough. Draco needed more, he needed to be _filled_ , he needed- “Ah, _fuck!_ God, Harry!” he exclaimed as Harry closed his entire mouth around Draco’s arsehole and _sucked_. “Fuck! Bloody-” Harry pulled back a bit and began driving his tongue into Draco again. “-fucking-” Draco thrust back, trying to bury Harry deeper inside. “-hell!” Harry swept his tongue over Draco a final time, and then backed away and reached for the lube.

“Not bad, eh?” he quipped, slathering the slick substance over his extremely hard cock. He was willing to bet that, right at that moment, he’d be able to get off without anything else other than the sounds Draco made…

“You’d better not fucking be done,” Draco panted, spreading his legs wider apart and lifting his arse up a little when Harry urged him to.

“Nope, most definitely not,” Harry said softly, lining himself up. “God, you look good like this.” He looked Draco over and noted that the boy seemed completely relaxed, head resting on the arm that he still had propped against the headboard, his other hand still twisted in the bed comforter. Taking a deep breath, Harry began pushing forward.

Draco immediately groaned, legs spreading even further apart as he tried to get accustomed to Harry’s length inside of him again. He had actually begun to push back when the first twinge of pain shot up his spine, and reality crashed down around him as he realized what was happening.

“Ah, w-wait, Harry!” he squeaked, panic instantly overwhelming him. He twisted his head around, trying to meet Harry’s eyes. “Stop, what the hell are you doing?!” Harry stilled, wrapping one steady arm around Draco’s waist and reaching forward to grab Draco’s hand with his other.

“Shhh, calm down,” he said gently, willing Draco’s rapidly heaving chest to slow down

“How the hell do you expect me to be _calm_? You’re trying to fuck me without any preparation!”

“Everything I just did was preparation,” Harry murmured. Draco paused, blinking at him.

“But… How…?”

“Does it hurt right now?”

“Well _no_ …but it was starting to.” Draco shifted a bit and winced. “Uh-huh, there it is.”

“I didn’t use my fingers because…because you were already relaxed and ready,” Harry explained, face screwing up in concentration as he tried to remain absolutely still. He gasped as Draco shifted again. “I didn’t…want to make you nervous all…all over again.” Harry swallowed thickly. “Understand?” Draco nodded slowly. “Ok…ok, I’m already halfway inside. Can you handle the rest?”

“…Yeah,” Draco nodded again. “Yeah, I can.” Harry sat up a bit, pulling Draco upright with him, and intertwined their fingers. His other arm tightened around Draco’s waist and began easing him down into his lap. Draco gasped, hand clenching around Harry’s as Harry’s cock slowly inched forward, but the other boy didn’t stop until he was completely inside Draco.

“How’s that?” he panted, resting his forehead against the sweaty skin of Draco’s back.

“Nggh,” was Draco’s strained reply. 

“Can I move?”

“Ahh…yeah,” Draco said breathlessly, trying to shake the hair out of eyes. “Yeah, move.” Harry leaned forward, changing positions again so that Draco was back on his hands and knees, before pulling out and slowly thrusting back in. Draco gasped and shuddered, and Harry reached around Draco’s hip and wrapped his hand tightly around the other boy’s cock. Draco moaned low in his throat, and Harry thrust into him again.

“God, Draco,” he whispered, quickly establishing a steady pace as he pounded into the other boy, “I…ah…you feel so _good_ …” Draco keened and groaned, pushing back against him. Harry’s eyes squeezed shut and he slid his hand up and down Draco’s length, keeping in time with his own movement. Draco was still pretty worked up from earlier, so it didn’t take much more than a few well-aimed thrusts for the boy to come, hot and wet and with a loud gasp all over Harry’s hand and the bed cover below, sucking in deep gulps of air as if he couldn’t get enough of it. He kept working back against Harry, and less than a minute later Harry was shooting his own load into Draco with a loud cry.

Harry collapsed onto Draco’s back, and Draco’s arms immediately quaked under the extra weight. Pulling out carefully, Harry then rolled off to the side and landed on his back, panting heavily as he watched Draco lower himself to the bed.

“God,” Draco murmured, eyes falling closed. Harry smiled sleepily.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Heh. I told you you’d bottom again.” Draco rolled over so that he was facing Harry and halfheartedly smacked his arm. Harry stuck his tongue out at him.

“S’your turn, next time,” Draco mumbled, yawning loudly right after.

“Alright,” Harry agreed. “Hogsmeade weekend on Saturday…shall we stay here instead?” Draco opened one eye and peered blurrily at Harry.

“Hogsmeade already?”

“Well there’s Quidditch next weekend. Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff.”

“Hmm.” They laid in silence for a few minutes, before Draco flipped onto his back and stretched out his legs. Then he grimaced slightly and forced himself to sit up.

“Where’re you going?” Harry asked, yawning himself this time.

“S’wet an’ sticky here. And I need a shower. So I’m heading out.” Harry frowned, rolling onto his stomach and trying to focus on Draco’s face.

“Going back to Slytherin?”

“Yeah,” Draco nodded. He started to get up from the bed, but paused suddenly and turned back around to face Harry. Harry grinned at him, and Draco leaned forward to kiss him long and slow on the lips, neither boy making a move to deepen it. Draco pulled back, looking even more flushed than before, and began gathering up all his clothes. Harry groaned as he sat up.

“Do you want my cloak again?” he offered as he tried to pull on his trousers.

“Yes,” Draco answered immediately, grinning. “But only for the sake of having it. It’s brilliant, you know.” Harry laughed and handed it over.

“I guess I should be extra thankful we don’t have potions tomorrow,” he said. Draco smirked.

“Like you didn’t enjoy every second of that,” he quipped, throwing the cloak around his shoulders. Harry’s cheeks flushed and he walked forward to kiss Draco again.

“Night,” he whispered, drawing the cloak up over Draco’s head. He felt a hand squeeze his briefly, and then the door opened and closed again, and Harry was alone.


	13. Chapter 13

Harry was used to people whispering about him behind his back. He’d had his fair share of hard stares and suspicious glances over the years, ranging from Hufflepuffs who thought he was the heir of Slytherin to even his best mate because he thought he’d been lied to. Whatever the reason, Harry was accustomed to people shunning him for brief amounts of time.

He wasn’t used to people downright acting out against him, though.

“Hey, Potter!” an unfamiliar voice yelled as Harry was walking down to breakfast the following morning with some of his fellow Gryffindors. He turned to look over his shoulder and acknowledge whoever was calling out to him-

-and immediately ended up sprawled out on the floor as his foot got caught in a trip jinx.

Everything seemed to freeze for a shocked second as the same voice gave a chuckled, “Fucking fag,” and then Harry’s friends were flying into action.

Seamus was instantly at Harry’s side, and he and Dean helped him sit up. Hermione and Ron whipped around, wands out and at the ready, and before Ron could even figure out who had cast the jinx, Hermione was throwing a bat-bogey hex that would have put Ginny to shame at one of the laughing students nearby.

“Hermione!” Ron gasped, head swiveling back and forth uncertainly between the small group of students and his friend. “But- Prefects!” he stuttered. Hermione ignored him, stalking forward with her wand pointed.

“Friends first, Prefect responsibilities second,” she muttered, cornering three nervous looking Hufflepuffs.

“Wait, Hermione, it’s fine!” Harry said as he shoved his glasses back onto his face. Seamus’ hand was still resting on his shoulder, but it was suddenly shoved aside and Harry was hauled to his feet, and he found himself staring into stormy grey eyes.

“Are you ok?” Draco asked gruffly, hand grasping the material on Harry’s shoulder tightly. Harry blinked, slightly surprised, and nodded. “Who was it?” Draco spat, turning to face the others. “I saw him fall, who hexed him?”

“It was just a trip jinx,” Harry murmured, cheeks going red. “Nothing worse than what you’ve done in the past.” Draco ignored him.

“It was these three, Draco,” Hermione said, voice uncharacteristically hard. She still had her wand trained on the three boys. Draco’s eyes slid coolly over them and he sneered.

“Detention,” he snapped, hand tightening further on Harry’s robe. “Friday with Filch. And I’ll be checking myself to make sure you show up. Be there at seven.”

“We can’t give detentions, Malfoy,” Ron spoke up, staring curiously at the boy. Draco gave him an exasperated look.

“I suggest you learn to read, Weasley. It’s really a very handy skill. That, or get your girlfriend to read the rulebook out loud for you because Prefects can, _indeed_ , give detentions.” Ron gave Hermione a bewildered look.

“Can we really?” he asked.

“Yes,” Hermione replied tiredly. “We can take points, too.”

“Oh.” Ron blinked. “Well in that case, twenty points from Hufflepuff for attacking another student.”

“I was not _attacked_ ,” Harry huffed, finally shrugged Draco’s hand off of him and brushing off his robes. “I’m _fine_.”

“Shut up, Harry,” Draco said offhandedly, peering closer at the Hufflepuffs who instinctively drew closer together. “Who got him with the bat-bogey hex?”

“That was me,” Hermione said sheepishly, finally lowering her wand. “I saw his wand still raised and got a bit carried away.” Draco looked at her appraisingly.

“I’ve been on the wrong end of that one before. Good job, Granger.” He turned to look back at the other students. “Get the hell out of my sight. If I hear that you did something like this again, I’ll take it to the Headmaster.” The Hufflepuffs scampered away quickly, not needing to be told twice.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled. Draco narrowed his eyes at him.

“Really, Potter, attacked by some fifth-year _Hufflepuffs_? The levels of your pathetic-ness increase more everyday.”

“I was not attacked!” Harry snapped again, shoving Draco’s shoulder lightly. Draco smirked, turning to glance over his shoulder at Crabbe and Goyle, who Harry had only just noticed were there.

“Maybe I should lend you my bodyguards,” he quipped sarcastically. Crabbe blinked, Goyle scratched absently at his arm, and Harry scowled.

“I don’t need them,” he said darkly, before looking briefly at the two hulking Slytherins. “No offense, guys.” They shrugged.

“Has this ever happened to you?” Draco suddenly asked Seamus, who looked surprised that Draco was actually deigning to speak to him.

“Ahh, well, not really,” he started to say, before Dean interrupted him.

“No, there was that one time last year,” he said.

“What? When was this?” Hermione asked quickly. Seamus blinked, and then laughed.

“Oh right, with Justin.”

“Huh?” Harry said.

“I was with Justin…and…erm…well a certain Slytherin-”

“Oh that doesn’t count!” Draco broke in, scowling. “That had nothing to do with-”

“- _a certain Slytherin_ ,” Seamus continued loudly, “decided it’d be funny to throw a Petrificus Totalus at us while I had my hands down his pants.”

“You were out after hours!” Draco insisted, a pink flush spreading across his cheeks. “That, and I thought I might be scarred for life!”

“You _cursed_ them?” Harry said in disbelief. Draco shifted awkwardly.

“After hours!” he repeated, as if this was some important fact that absolutely could not be dismissed. “I could have taken points or something, but I was too busy trying to protect my innocence-”

“Aww, poor wittle Malfoy and his virgin eyes,” Ron sniggered.

“Sod off, Weasley!”

“Did you just leave them there?” Hermione asked, disapproval flashing in her eyes.

“I found them,” Dean said, grinning. “When Seamus didn’t come back I went looking for him.”

“No one ever comes looking for me when I don’t come back,” Harry said, looking slightly put out.

“That would be because you’ve always come back, Harry,” Ron pointed out. Harry blushed.

“Oh.” The he blurted, “Wait, no! Not after the last party!”

“Blaise told us where you were,” Hermione said. Harry just scowled at her.

“Ok, back to my question!” Draco demanded, looking annoyed that he was being ignored.

Harry smirked. “Everyone shut up and immediately pay attention to Draco because he is of utmost importance,” he deadpanned. Draco smacked his shoulder.

“No, Malfoy, I’ve never been attacked before,” Seamus finally answered as he chuckled.

“It was _not_ an attack!” Harry insisted exasperatedly, stomping his foot against the ground. Draco absently patted his shoulder as he focused on Seamus, who was still talking. Harry glowered.

“I mean, I guess it’s different with you two,” Seamus said. “I’ve always been open about being gay but I don’t really… _flaunt_ it. And I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“We’re not flaunting it either,” Draco groused.

“No, but you’re both definitely more in the limelight then I’ll ever be,” Seamus pointed out. Draco opened his mouth to reply, but Goyle was suddenly speaking and it startled everyone for a second.

“Wait, Draco, you’re gay?” the boy blurted. Draco shot him an exasperated look and it should have been easy to snap back an annoyed ‘ _well duh!_ ’ but everyone was staring at him expectantly all of a sudden and Draco found himself at a loss for words.

“Er…” Admitting it out loud was harder than he would have liked, and he’d only ever done it once before and that was to Harry. Pansy had already known; he hadn’t had to actually say it, and he really wished that the second time around could have been to anyone else but a group of _Gryffindors_. “ _Yes_ ,” he managed to grind out between clenched teeth, color blooming in his cheeks. “What the hell did you think when I said Potter was my boyfriend?”

“I…well,” Goyle looked flustered. “I mean, it’s _Potter_ , I just figured… Well, I didn’t know you were _gay_!”

“And is that a _problem_?” Draco asked slowly, dangerously. His eyes narrowed as Goyle fidgeted. “You honestly think I’d whore myself out to Potter because he’s, what, _famous_?”

“Umm…” Draco’s upper lip curled into a sneer, and his hands closed into fists at his side.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, before glancing at Crabbe. “And you?” The boy shrugged.

“I don’t really care.”

“…You don’t really care,” Draco repeated, his entire body tense and looking like he was about to snap.

“Uh, Draco?” Harry said softly, touching Draco’s arm lightly. Draco’s head whipped around to look at him, eyes still narrowed.

“What?” he snapped.

Harry was about to ask him if he was ok, but he didn’t think Draco would appreciate the extra attention so… “We should really be getting to breakfast,” he said instead. Draco considered this, the tension gradually leaving his shoulders, and then nodded and grabbed Harry’s elbow.

“You’re eating with me this morning,” he said simply, and began hauling him to the doors of the Great Hall.

“I am?” Harry said bewilderedly as he stumbled after Draco. He cast a helpless look at his friends over his shoulder.

“I ate with _them_ the other night, didn’t I?” Draco spat, tossing his head in the general direction of the rest of the Gryffindor. “So you can eat with me today.” Harry grinned lightly.

“Alright then,” he said. Draco dropped Harry’s arm so he could push the doors open, and then paused slightly as Harry walked past him.

“Hufflepuffs, Harry!” he finally said, in a disbelieving sort of tone. “How could you let _Hufflepuffs_ atta-”

“Don’t!” Harry interrupted shortly. “Just...don’t.” Draco sighed.

“I didn’t even think they had it in them.”

“People don’t give Hufflepuffs enough credit,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Plus, I’ve always been a bit of a sore spot for that house.”

“Really?” Draco asked as he began leading the way to the Slytherin table. Crabbe was trailing behind them, and Goyle followed at a bit more of a distance.

Harry nodded. “They thought I cursed Justin in second year,” he began ticking things off on his fingers, “they were mad at me for stealing the spotlight from Cedric in fourth year, and…well, just anything about Cedric, really,” he finished softly. Draco glanced at him at of the corner of his eye.

“That wasn’t your fault,” he said quietly. Harry looked at him sharply, and Draco shrugged. “Well it wasn’t! Diggory was a pureblood anyway, so that was a bad move on the Dark Lord’s part.” Harry rolled his eyes and pursed his lips.

“ _Kill the spare_ ,” he said bitterly. “That’s what Voldemort said. He wasn’t going to bother checking. He probably won’t care that you’re a Malfoy, either. If word gets back to him about us, I mean. It’ll just be: _What? He’s making Potter happy? Kill him!_ ” Draco would have chuckled at the mocking impression Harry was doing, except he was too busy stumbling over his own feet and coming to a sudden halt in the middle of the Great Hall.

“You think that’s what’ll happen?” he asked in a strained voice. Harry paused, looking back at him, and then he sighed.

“Maybe?” he said, shrugging helplessly. “Don’t worry about it, though, eh?” Draco laughed shortly.

“Oh, right, don’t worry about it- it’s only my _life_!” he exclaimed. Harry didn’t have a response to that, so he just grabbed Draco’s wrist and gently pulled him the rest of the way to the Slytherin table. Pansy glanced up as Harry pushed Draco down into a seat and then slid in next to him.

“Morning, boys,” she greeted cheerfully, looking back and forth between them. “Took you long enough to get here. Were you having a secret rendezvous in one of the alcoves?” Harry blushed slightly at the idea, making Pansy’s grin widen, but Draco scowled and stabbed angrily at some sausages he’d just loaded onto his plate.

“Oh, yeah. A secret rendezvous. Just me and Harry…and the fucking rest of Gryffindor,” he muttered sarcastically. Harry smiled sheepishly, “Harry was attacked,” Draco blurted.

“Draco!” Harry said sharply, but Draco continued obliviously.

“By _Hufflepuffs_.”

“Wait, you were attacked?” Pansy asked quickly, her eyes narrowing.

“It was _not_ an attack,” Harry insisted stubbornly.

“For being a fag,” Goyle spoke up. Draco and Harry shot him twin glares.

“And _Gregory_ here,” Draco said slowly, “has a problem with me being…being…” and there was that word again.

“Gay?” Blaise offered, speaking for the first time since the couple had sat down. Theodore and Millicent both tuned into the conversation quickly, suddenly interested. Draco’s nose wrinkled.

“Yeah. Gay,” he sneered. Pansy smacked Goyle’s shoulder.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she asked angrily.

“Nothing!” Goyle said quickly. “It’s fine. I just…find it sort of unnatural.”

“You didn’t say anything when Draco first told us,” Theodore said.

“And you didn’t have a problem with it during the dares,” Millicent added.

“Draco never actually… _told_ us,” Crabbe pointed out, coming to the defense of his friend. “I mean, we all kind of got the point, but…” he trailed off.

“I don’t get it,” Blaise said immediately. Goyle flushed and started shredding his napkin absently.

“He thought Draco was just with Potter because…because he’s _Harry Potter_ ,” Crabbe explained. Draco scowled, dropping his fork on the table and crossing his arms. Harry’s lips twitched as he tried to hold back his laughter.

Pansy snorted. “And how long have you known Draco?” she asked. Goyle’s cheeks reddened further.

“Well that’s the thing,” he said slowly. “Do you know how many times I’ve…I’ve been… _alone_ with him?”

“Oh, for the love of- Is that what your problem is?” Draco said loudly.

“And the amount of times we’ve showered together-”

“That’s because they’re communal showers!”

“And you change with him in the Quidditch locker rooms!” Goyle turned to Crabbe quickly, one arm knocking over a glass of pumpkin juice as he gestured aimlessly. “Won’t that make you nervous now?”

“I still change in front of Seamus,” Harry pointed out.

“Well you’re gay too, aren’t you?” Goyle said viciously. Harry opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. His cheeks went pink.

“We all changed with Draco in the room this morning,” Theodore said instead.

Goyle snorted. “Yeah, but not anymore. He might be…be…he might be-”

“Perving on you?” Draco snarled. “Think I get off watching you all strip?” Goyle shrugged, and Draco leveled his glare on each of his dorm mates in turn. “Just for the record, I find _none_ of you lugs attractive. Or…well, at least not like _that_.”

Blaise pouted. “I’m not good enough for you, Draco?” he cooed sarcastically. Draco threw a piece of toast at him and he dodged it, chuckling.

“I still want to hear about this attack,” Pansy spoke up.

“It was _not_ -”

“Trip jinx,” Draco interrupted, giving Goyle a dark look before ignoring him entirely. “Some fifth year Hufflepuffs. I gave them detention.”

“And then Weasley took twenty points,” Crabbe added.

“Well, good!” Pansy said, nodding quickly. “They deserved it. Are you ok?” she directed at Harry. Harry scowled.

“I’m _fine_ ,” he muttered. Then, imagining Hermione’s disapproving look in his head, he quickly added, “Not that I don’t appreciate your concern.”

“I can’t believe they’d do that,” Blaise said as he sipped from his cup. Harry shrugged and snatched a sausage off Draco’s plate. “That’s something I’d expect from a Slytherin, not Hufflepuff.”

“That’s what I said,” Draco agreed absently, frowning at Harry. “Did you take my knife?”

“Oh, sorry, here.” Harry handed it back and Draco began cutting his pancakes into perfect bite-size squares. Harry watched curiously, leaning on his hand.

“Manners, Potter. Get that elbow off the table,” Millicent quipped. Harry gave her a petulant look and Draco snickered.

“Are you going to tell Dumbledore about the attack?” Pansy asked innocently, very clearly trying keep down a smirk.

“IT WAS NOT AN ATTACK!”

* * *

Later that evening, Draco had managed to drag Harry to the library to study. Or rather, Hermione had been trying to make him go after dinner and Draco had just happened to be walking by and after hearing Harry refuse several times, he asked if Harry would rather go with him.

Harry had said yes in a heartbeat. They’d left a fairly exasperated Hermione now trying to get Ron to go with her.

Though now, Draco was starting to regret ever asking Harry to go. He was used to studying alone. He _liked_ studying alone. Harry didn’t particularly enjoy studying at all, though luckily his grades didn’t suffer for it. Still, Draco was trying to get through his Potions homework, and while he vaguely realized that Potions was probably not the best thing to be working on with Harry, he wanted to finish it before moving onto another subject.

“Wait, how does runespoor venom counteract with belladonna again?”

“The _essence_ of belladonna,” Draco corrected absently, left hand tightening around his hair in frustration as he leaned his head on his hand. His right hand was busily taking notes from the chapter he was trying to read. “And I’ve told you three times already, it neutralizes it. How hard is that to remember?”

“But how come in this chapter it says when they’re together it speeds up the reaction-”

“That’s the belladonna _root_. Can’t you read?”

Harry scowled, wrote something down, and then glared at Draco. “ _Yes_ , I _can_ , thank you very much.” Draco made an incomprehensible sound, not looking up. Harry bit his bottom lip sheepishly. “…Draco?”

Draco sighed in exasperation. “The belladonna root reacts with runespoor venom and makes it a catalyst for that particular potion. Usually you don’t use the root in the same potions that you use runespoor venom because without the armadillo bile, it becomes very volatile. Runespoor venom in _itself_ is very volatile. But, like I told you numerous times, the essence of belladonna neutralizes it.” He glanced up at Harry. “Do you get it?”

“Umm…” Draco pursed his lips and breathed harshly through his nose. “Yes!” Harry said quickly. “Yeah, I get it…” Nodding, Draco returned to his work for a few minutes. “Er, Draco?”

“Yes?” Draco said testily.

“Uh, where it says that crushed beetles can only be used in potions stirred clockwise if there’s fluxweed involved…didn’t we make that one potion in the fall that-”

“Cooling balm, commonly used on sunburn,” Draco murmured. “Stirred clockwise because of the aloe involved. The aloe overrides the beetles so you don’t have to stir it counterclockwise.”

“Oh.” Harry looked back at his book, chewing absently on his quill. “Hey, Draco-”

Draco slammed his own quill down with a loud sigh. “What, Harry? What is it _now_?” Harry’s brow furrowed.

“Never mind,” he muttered. Draco sighed again.

“No, I’m…ah…Harry-”

“It’s ok. Really.” Harry looked up at him. “I’m bad at Potions, I know.” Draco shrugged awkwardly. Harry stared at him for a second, and then laughed shortly. “You’re supposed to say, ‘no, Harry, you’re great at Potions!’”

“But then I’d be lying,” Draco said teasingly. Harry balled up a piece of parchment and threw it at him. “Look, it’s not a big deal. Some people are just crap at certain subjects. Can’t be helped.”

“Like you and Charms?” Harry smirked. “Messed up your levitation charm as soon as you heard my name last year.” Draco scowled.

“I’m not generally bad at Charms,” he grumbled. “That was your fault.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, well your exam proctor- _Are you the famous Potter?_ \- Like there _are_ any other Potters.”

“He was just checking,” Harry murmured.

“And he sounded so impressed. That’s probably how you got into Potions in the first place,” Draco said.

“What?” Harry asked, eyes narrowing.

“Well you’re obviously crap at it. Yet you still got in. And I know Snape doesn’t let anyone unless they got an Outstanding,” Draco continued, oblivious of the look on Harry’s face since he’d returned to taking notes. Draco snorted. “Whoever graded yours must have seen your name and boosted you up a few levels.”

“I do just _fine_ at Potions when Snape isn’t breathing over my shoulder and purposely trying to fail me,” Harry snapped. “And I studied my arse off for that O.W.L.”

“So you maybe you managed to get above an Acceptable, but really, Harry, an Outstanding?”

“That’s obviously what I got!”

“Then why do you have to ask me a new question every five bloody minutes, hmm?” Draco glanced up, smiling a ‘you-know-I’m-right’ type of smile, and Harry snapped. Slamming his book shut, he gathered up his parchment and quill and dumped everything into his bag. “Where are you going?” Draco asked.

“Fuck off, Malfoy,” Harry spat. Draco blinked and his eyes widened.

“What- Harry!” he said, looking slightly alarmed. “Stop it, you’re causing a scene!”

“Like I give a _fuck_ if I’m causing a scene!” Harry exclaimed angrily, standing so quickly he knocked his chair over. Madame Pince was giving their table a disapproving look.

“But where are you going?” Draco asked again.

“Back to Gryffindor,” Harry snarled, and then he spun on his heel and stalked out the library doors. Draco stared after him for a few stunned seconds. Then he glanced at his Potions textbook and the unfinished homework in front of him. Pursing his lips, he glanced back at the doors again, half expecting Harry to come back through them. When it was clear that he wouldn’t be returning, Draco cursed.

“Bollocks,” he muttered, and, ignoring the sudden whispering of everyone around him, he rushed out of the library.

* * *

Harry burst through the Gryffindor portrait, ignoring the insulted squawk from the Fat Lady, and headed straight for his room. He’d barely made it three steps before he was accosted by Hermione.

“Harry! How did the studying go- oh...” She faltered in her steps at the outraged look on Harry’s face. “Um, did something happen?” she asked tentatively.

“Yeah, bloody _Malfoy_ happened,” Harry sneered, looking remarkably like Draco as he did. Hermione would have laughed in any other circumstance.

“What’d he do?” she asked instead. Harry opened his mouth to answer, but they were interrupted by a loud banging on the portrait and more angry squawking from the Fat Lady.

“Nobody let him in!” Harry said loudly. Several second years sheepishly sat back in their seats.

“Harry!” a muffled voice yelled. “Potter, let me in!”

“No!” Harry yelled back.

“Why not?!”

“Because I’m mad at you!”

“ _Why?!_ ”

“If you don’t know then I’m not telling you!”

“Harry, this is ridiculous,” Hermione said, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. “If he doesn’t even know what he did-”

“He doesn’t think I got an Outstanding on my Potions O.W.L. by myself,” Harry snapped. “He’s thinks I got it because I’m fucking _Harry Potter_ and apparently everything gets handed to me on a silver platter. Like my life is such a luxurious thing to live!” Harry began directing his comments at the portrait again. “Well it’s not! I have to work for things just like everybody else, and I’m _sick_ and _tired_ of people like you and Snape always giving me a hard time because you think I’m some sort of fucking _celebrit_ -” He was cut off as the portrait swung open and Draco swept through it, Ron behind him with an arm full of food.

“Found him outside,” Ron said, taking a bite out of an apple. Without swallowing, he continued, “Though’ I’d let ‘im in.” Harry crossed his arms angrily and Draco did the same.

“And where were you?” Hermione asked, frowning a little. “I thought you were in your room.”

Ron shrugged. “Kitchen,” he replied simply. “What’s up with these two?”

“Draco made Harry mad or something,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Ron’s own eyes lit up.

“They’re having a fight already?” he said excitedly, plopping himself down on a nearby chair. “I should have gotten popcorn.”

“Ron!” Hermione scolded.

“We’re here you know.” Draco scowled at Ron’s half eaten apple.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Harry finally spoke up, turning away from Draco and heading for the stairs. Draco followed him stubbornly.

“Don’t you walk away from me!” he said, grabbing the back of Harry’s robe. Harry shook him off, walking up the stairs. “Come on, Harry, I followed you all the way up here!”

“Well goody for you,” Harry quipped sarcastically.

“ _Harry_ …Harry, come on-” Harry threw open the door to his room, startling Dean and Neville who were inside. He absently wondered where Seamus was, but he didn’t dwell on it.

“Out!” he snapped at his two dorm mates, and they quickly grabbed their books and slid past Draco out the door. Harry slammed it behind them, and Draco shifted awkwardly.

“Harry, I… This is your room?” he asked suddenly, as if just noticing where he was. He glanced around, nose wrinkling at the choice of colors.

“Yeah it is. Problem?”

“It looks just like mine,” Draco muttered. “I’d kind of hoped Slytherin had something better than the other houses…” He shrugged, but when Harry didn’t answer, he finally looked at him again. Harry was sitting on his bed, glaring. “Look, what the hell is your problem?” Draco asked.

“You didn’t hear me earlier?”

“No, I heard you. I just have a hard time believing that you’re that mad at me because of what I said.”

“Weren’t you mad when Hermione implied that you bought your way onto the Slytherin Quidditch team?” Harry asked, picking up a random pillow so that his hands would have something to do. He began fiddling with it absently.

“Yes, I was furious,” Draco replied, taking a step closer to Harry.

“Because you went through tryouts to get on the team, right?”

“No, I was mad that she had the nerve to speak to me like that,” Draco retorted. Harry’s upper lip curled as he gave the boy a look of disgusted disbelief.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered. “Bloody unbelievable, that’s what you are.” Draco blinked, and Harry scowled, moving so that he sitting against the headboard of his bed and crossing his arms angrily across his chest. “I _do_ have to work for things, you know,” he said bitterly. “I don’t get whatever I want because of who I am. Good grades and test scores don’t just randomly appear on my papers.”

“Well obviously not, if your Potions marks are anything to go by,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “But of course, Snape grades those. Not some star struck exam proctor.”

“Damn it, Draco!”

“What?”

“Stop being…being-”

“Difficult?” Draco supplied. “You seem to like referring to me as _difficult_.”

“Well you are!” Harry said. “You’re right, I _don’t_ do well in Potions, but guess what? I don’t get top scores in Transfigurations either! Or Divination, or Charms- I might get _decent_ grades. Sometimes really _good_ grades, even. But not one teacher in this school has ever let me by in their class just because of my name.”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Draco quickly said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’ve always done well in that class and you’re always really close to the professors-”

“Oh yeah,” Harry interrupted, scoffing. “Umbridge and I were real pals. And I couldn’t get enough of Lockhart. And, wait, wasn’t it Quirrell who was _trying to kill me_ all of first year?”

“That-…ah-”

“But yeah, you’re right again. I do well in Defense Against the Dark Arts. So there’s at least one class I’m just inherently good in,” Harry said in clipped tones. “So I guess that means the only reason you do well in Potions is because Snape’s friendly with your dad, huh?”

“Don’t you talk about my father!” Draco snapped furiously. Harry pressed his lips firmly together, brow furrowing.

“Right, sorry,” he muttered. There were a few seconds of awkward silence, before Draco tried again.

“Quidditch,” he said, somewhat weakly. “You were the youngest player on a house team-”

“In a century, I know. Because I’m _good_ ,” Harry murmured, taking of his glasses so that he could rub his eyes tiredly. “I can’t help that. I didn’t get on the team because I’m _Harry Potter_ , I got on because McGonagall saw me catching Neville’s remembrall. So that was actually your fault.” He gave Draco an ironic sort of smile and Draco glowered at him. “Things don’t happen to me because of my name, ok? Or at least not _good_ things.”

“But…” Draco frowned. He glanced around the room, brow furrowed, before bighting his bottom lip slightly. Then he sighed and sat down on the bed across from Harry. “Harry, I’m…I’m…I’m _sorry_ , ok? It’s just…I spent the last five and a half years thinking that…or _telling_ myself that…” He trailed off, looking away again, and then shook his head quickly. “Look, I know you got that Outstanding on your own. You probably deserved it, too.”

“Of course I did!” Harry insisted. “I studied for hours for that stupid thing.”

“Yes well… Why are you taking Potions anyway?” Draco asked. “It’s obvious you don’t like it.”

Harry snorted. “Are you kidding? I hate it!”

“…Right.” Draco blinked. “So then you’re taking it because…?”

“I need it to become an auror,” Harry admitted.

“Oh. An auror? Really?” Harry shrugged.

“Yeah,” he said.

“I’d have pegged you for…you know, professional Quidditch or something,” Draco said. Harry shrugged again, and then they sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment. “So,” Draco spoke up again. “Ah…am I…” He blushed, glancing off to the side and wrinkling his nose. “Fuck it,” he muttered. “Do you forgive me?”

“Do you think I should?” Harry asked, giving him a hard look. Draco squirmed slightly.

“Yes?” he replied uncertainly. “I apologized…” Harry looked at him for a few seconds longer before sighing.

“Yeah, I guess I forgive you, then,” he said, giving Draco a tight smile. Draco smiled back a little, and Harry blinked. “Hey, where’s your books and stuff?” he asked, realizing for the first time that Draco was empty-handed.

“Oh. I, um…I left everything in the library,” Draco said sheepishly. “So did we just have our first fight?”

“Yes, and only after two days of being together,” Harry said dryly. “Like I said, I give us a week.”

“Oh, we’ll last longer than that,” Draco smirked. “It’ll be two weeks, at least.” Harry laughed.

“Well, there _is_ a good side to all of this,” he said.

“You Gryffindors,” Draco muttered. “Always looking on the bright side. Ok, what is it?” Harry gave him a leering grin.

“We get to have make-up sex.” And then he pounced, pinning Draco to the other bed and attacking his mouth. Draco laughed against Harry, opening his mouth for him instantly, and their tongues met. Harry groaned, pressing Draco further into the bed as their tongues stroked around each other, twining and twisting and rediscovering each other all over again. Draco kissed him back hungrily, and then paused for a quick second before pushing up with all of his weight and flipping over so that Harry was the one on his back.

“I get to top this time, remember?” he murmured, pressing his face to crook of Harry’s neck and running his hands underneath the boy’s shirt. Harry gasped, arching up into his touch.

“Yeah, I remember,” he said softly, putting his hands on either side of Draco’s face and drawing him up so he could kiss him again. “Fuck, wait!” he gasped as Draco’s fingers dipped beneath the waistline of his jeans.

“Why?” Draco asked, running his tongue along Harry’s collar.

“Ah, Draco! Draco, wait,” Harry gasped again. Draco pulled back, sighing in frustration.

“What is it?” he asked gruffly.

“This…um…this isn’t my bed.” Draco froze.

“It isn’t?”

“No. No, I was sitting on my bed before.”

“…Ew…”

“This is-”

“Don’t tell me!” Draco said quickly, sitting up and sticking his hands out in front of him as if to ward Harry off. “I don’t want to know!” Harry chuckled and sat up as well, making it so that Draco was now straddling his lap.

“ _My_ bed,” he started to say, before grabbing Draco’s wrists and pushing him onto the bed in question, “is _this_ one.” He pinned Draco down again, grinning into his face, and Draco stuck his tongue out at him.

“Good to know,” he smirked, and the rolled over so that Harry was beneath him again. “I won’t forget that.” He quickly recaptured Harry’s mouth and had one hand beneath his shirt again, when someone began pounding on the door.

“Harry!!” Ron’s voice called, muffled through the door. Harry’s head dropped back onto the mattress and he groaned. “Harry, some of us would like to go to bed!”

“Sod off, Weasley!” Draco yelled at the door. There was a brief pause, and then even louder banging.

“Whatever the hell you’re doing, stop! Stop stop stop STOP!! Not in our room, Harry!!”

“Stay with me tonight,” Harry told Draco quickly as the Ron began pounding yet more loudly on the door. “We can put up a silencing charm.”

“What? No!” Draco looked scandalized. “No way, I’m not doing it with other people in the room!”

“They won’t know we’re here!”

“Harry, _no_ ,” Draco said again, pulling away and standing up.

“Harry, open the door!!”

“Draco, come on,” Harry pleaded. He hooked his fingers into the back of Draco’s trousers and pulled the boy back to him, immediately wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist. “We can’t always do it in the Room of Requirement.”

“No, but we can also find some other time to do it when all of your roommates aren’t here!”

“HARRY!!!”

Scowling, Draco ripped away from Harry and stomped over to the door to throw it open.

“What type of wizard are you?” he snapped as Ron nearly fell through the open door. “There’s this spell known as _Alohomora_. It unlocks doors. Try it sometime!”

“Sorry, Malfoy, I tried to get him to leave you two alone for about ten more minutes, but he wouldn’t listen,” Seamus quipped. He was standing a bit further back with Dean, looking amused, and Neville was behind them. Ron ignored them and shoved past Draco, catching site of Harry standing awkwardly between two disheveled beds.

“Harry,” he said slowly, crossing his arms, “ _why_ is my bed messed up?’ Draco shuddered.

“Oh, _God_ , that was your bed?” he asked, disgust evident in his voice. “I need a shower. I feel dirty.”

“ _Harry?_ ” Ron asked again.

“Maybe you didn’t make it this morning,” Harry said sheepishly, scuffing his toe against the ground. Ron groaned.

“Right, well, I’ll leave you to your bed issues,” Draco said from the doorway. “I need to go get my stuff from the library and finish that bloody Potions assignment.”

“Hold up,” Harry said, moving forward quickly and grabbing Draco’s arm. Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes?” he asked slowly.

“Do you think you could…help me? With Potions, I mean.” Harry shrugged, grinning lightly. “I’m crap at it.”

Draco smirked. “I think we can find some arrangement that’ll work out. You’ll have to repay me, of course,” he said loftily.

“I can _repay_ you however you like. Just name the time and place,” Harry said, his grin widening. Seamus snickered, while the rest of Harry’s dorm mates made various sounds of disgust.

“Careful, don’t want to shock them too much,” Draco quipped, turning to leave again. Harry spun him around and pushed him up against the doorframe.

“Sod them,” he murmured, and then he planted his mouth on Draco’s and kissed him. Draco’s eyes went wide and inadvertently met Ron’s across the room. The bug-eyed look on the boy’s face was more than enough to make laughter bubble up inside Draco, but he held it down and deepened the kiss instead, eyes sliding shut.

There was some sudden whispering from beside them and then footsteps were thundering down the hall, but Harry and Draco ignored it easily. By the time the footsteps were coming back, Harry had one hand twisted into Draco’s hair, the other halfway up his shirt, and Draco had both arms wrapped around neck and one of his legs was hooked around the back of Harry’s.

Then there was a loud click and a flash of light, and Harry instantly knew what had just happened and he pulled back.

“Colin!” he growled, turning to the side. The fifth year was standing there anxiously, nearly hopping from foot to foot, and he pointed a finger at Seamus.

“It was his idea!” he squeaked. “He sent Dean to come and get me!” Then he paused, looking down at his camera and then back up at Harry. “It was a _really_ good picture, though. D’you want a copy?”

“Erm-”

“Yes,” Draco answered promptly. Colin gave him a wide-eyed look. “Now get out of here, Creevey! Or I’ll take that camera and toss it out the window.” Colin squeaked again and sidled out of the room. Harry smacked Draco’s shoulder.

“I’m going to go scourgify my eyes now,” Ron said faintly, walking dazedly in the direction of the bathroom.

“Harry, you didn’t do anything on my bed, did you?” Neville asked, looking nervously at his bed. Harry sighed.

“We didn’t do anything on _anyone’s_ bed,” he said. Ron snorted and closed the bathroom door behind him.

“The library’s going to close soon if you don’t let me go,” Draco said in an amused voice.

“Oh, right.” Harry blinked. “Sure you won’t stay?”

“He’s not staying!!” came Ron’s muffled voice from the bathroom. Draco smirked.

“Maybe I should, just to piss him off,” he said. “But no, I need to get back to Slytherin before Pansy has a heart attack. She’ll already be on my case for shirking Prefect duties tonight.”

“Ah,” Harry smiled. “Good point. Come on, I’ll walk you down.”

* * *

When Saturday finally rolled around, Harry gave his excuses to Ron and Hermione about why he couldn’t go to Hogsmeade, none of which they believed, before immediately dashing off to the Room of Requirement. He nearly ran headlong into Draco on the way, and the two boys shared a quick grin before they both took off for the room. Harry slid to a stop in front of it first, Draco slamming into his back a mere second later.

“Come on, open it!” he urged, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. Harry shook his head quickly.

“No, wait, I have to walk in front of it three times…” He trailed off as he began walking, concentrating on their normal room, and Draco moved with him. When the door appeared, Harry threw it open and they both nearly fell through it in their hurry. As soon as it was closed behind them, Harry raised an eyebrow at the décor.

“It’s green,” he said flatly.

“It worked!” Draco smirked. “Much better than that garish _red_ that’s always here, don’t you think?”

“Hardly.”

“Too bad,” Draco quipped, and then he began pushing Harry toward the bed. “Enough talking,” he muttered as he did. Harry laughed, spinning around so that he was walking backwards and when the back of his legs hit the bed, Draco pushed him down onto it.

“Why did we wait so long again?” Harry murmured, pulling Draco toward himself and kissing him lightly.

“We’ve both had Quidditch practice,” Draco replied, crawling onto the bed and making Harry move further onto it. As soon as Harry was lying amongst the pillows, Draco all but dove onto him. Harry arched into his touch, mouth instantly opening beneath the other boy’s. Draco sat up quickly, yanking his shirt off over his head, and Harry did the same thing below him. Then they were kissing again, chests sliding together. Harry brought his knees up, one pressing into Draco’s groin, and Draco gasped loudly, ripping his mouth away from Harry’s. “Lube,” he panted.

“Lube?” Harry asked, squirming beneath Draco and running his hands along the boy’s chest.

“The lube,” Draco gasped as one of Harry’s hands played with his nipples.

“Oh, the lube!” Harry froze and slowly looked up at Draco. “Oh…”

“Harry!” Draco said in an exasperated tone.

“Oops?” Harry offered sheepishly. “I was in a bit of a hurry, you know!”

Draco groaned. “Well _now_ what are we going to use?”

“Umm…” Harry’s face screwed up in concentration, and Draco looked at him oddly.

“What are you doing?”

“Think really hard about lube,” Harry said. “Maybe the room will give us some.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes!” Draco shrugged, doing as told. “Did it appear yet?”

“Uh…no,” Draco said, looking around the room.

“Damn.”

“There should be a spell for this,” Draco muttered.

“Oh. There is,” Harry said, sounding sheepish again. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Then use it!”

“Well I…um…it was in that book Seamus got me. But…I don’t remember it.”

“ _Harry_ ,” Draco groaned, falling forward and resting his forehead on Harry’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry!”

“What if we think about lotion or something,” Draco suggested. “Something _not_ sexual. Maybe there’s some sort of protective spell on the room.”

“That might work,” Harry murmured, closing his eyes to concentrate again.

“Oh! There it is.” Harry opened his eyes to see Draco reaching toward the nightstand and snatching up a tube of lotion. “This’ll work, right?” he asked.

“It should,” Harry said, sliding his trousers down his hips. He squirmed a bit until Draco lifted up, and then he removed them entirely. Draco did the same, kicking his off the bed and then kneeling in between Harry’s legs. He squeezed a dollop of the lotion into the palm of his hand, and then paused, looking down at Harry.

“Um…I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted, biting his bottom lip slightly.

“It’s not exactly complicated,” Harry said dryly, spreading his legs open further. Draco swallowed, eyes going wide as he looked at him. Harry felt his cheeks warm. Blinking, Draco came back to himself and began coating his fingers with the lotion.

“Ready?” he asked, meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry took a deep breath, willing himself to relax, and nodded. Nodding back, Draco slid one finger past Harry’s tight entrance and felt himself get even harder at the thought that another part of his body would soon be imitating this motion. “Ok?” he murmured. Harry nodded again, and Draco added a second finger, slowly sliding both fingers in and out. Harry took a jerky breath, releasing it in a shuddering way. Draco looked up at him, watching the emotions play across his face as he gently spread his fingers, and an idea came to him.

Harry was staring up at the ceiling, concentrating on the various lines and shadows and trying to ignore small sparks of pain. It wasn’t really that bad, but not thinking about it helped. He’d just been tracing a long groove with his eyes when he felt a hand wrap around his semi-aroused cock. Gasping, his gaze flew back down, and he saw Draco grinning up at him. And then suddenly Draco’s mouth opened and Harry was buried inside that wet warmth.

“Draco!” Harry gasped, head falling back as his chest arched. His hands gripped the blankets beneath him, and as Draco bobbed his head and sucked up, Harry barely even noticed the third finger being added. He actually bared down against them, memories washing over him of the last time he’d done this, and suddenly he had an aching desire to be filled again, to feel Draco _fucking_ him. Draco ran his tongue along the underside of his cock, and Harry thrust up into his mouth. “Draco, _please_ ,” he begged, though he wasn’t sure exactly what he was begging for. Draco spread his fingers once more and Harry gasped, and then Draco pulled out and released Harry from his mouth, closing his hand around him instead.

Draco positioned himself and quickly began pushing in, gasping at the pleasure shooting straight through his body as he remembered what Harry had said about _wanting_ it; wanting _him_. Harry obviously wanted it now because he was groaning loudly and moving up against him, drawing Draco further inside. Which was good, because Draco wouldn’t have been able to stop if he tried right now, and with a final thrust he fully embedded himself in Harry, drawing a startled gasp from the boy.

“Ah…s-sorry!” Draco stuttered, eyes squeezing shut so he could concentrate on Harry and not on the deliciously tight heat surrounding him. “Are you ok?”

“I’m f-f-fine,” Harry replied, breathing deeply. “Just k-keep…ah!...keep moving!” Draco didn’t need to be told twice and he began a steady pace, thrusting in and out of Harry’s body with long, slow strokes. Harry moaned beneath him, drawing his knees up to his chest so Draco could get a better angle. Draco paused briefly, moving Harry’s legs so that they were thrown over his shoulders, and then he was moving again. It felt like every time he thrust he found himself even further inside Harry, though that was really impossible because their hips kept slapping together and that meant Draco was already as deep inside as he could be.

Gasping, Draco opened his eyes a bit, not realizing that they’d been closed. Harry opened his at the same time, and suddenly they were looking at each other and the world faded out around them.

“Harry,” Draco whispered. Harry’s eyes widened a bit and a jumble of sounds left his throat as he apparently tried to respond. Draco smiled, shaking his hair out of his eyes, and Harry grinned briefly up at him before gasping loudly again. Draco thrust again, rotating his hips a little against Harry’s, and he could have sworn Harry actually went cross-eyed. The boy had lost his glasses at some point, though Draco didn’t remember if they actually took them off. He wanted to ask Harry if it felt alright, especially since Harry usually made sure he was hitting that spot inside of Draco, but Harry definitely seemed to be enjoying himself so Draco didn’t worry too much about it.

He actually wasn’t getting it each time, but Harry felt like he was in heaven anyway. It might have been the closeness of Draco’s body, or just the sheer intimacy of what they were doing, but it felt great and Harry didn’t want it to stop. But he could feel the pleasurable pressure building up, his cock ached with it, and when Draco did accidentally graze his prostate Harry’s world exploded. Throwing back his head, he groaned loudly as he came, black spots dancing in front of his eyes. His body quivered and tightened around Draco, sending the other boy over the edge as well, and they convulsed together, gasping and riding out their orgasms until Harry’s legs finally slipped from Draco’s shoulders and Draco collapsed against Harry in a boneless heap.

“Oh my God,” Harry moaned low in his throat. “ _Fuck_.” Draco grinned into Harry’s chest, before he weakly pulled out and fell against Harry’s side.

“I like topping,” he panted, sweeping some hair out of his eyes. Harry smiled.

“So do I,” he agreed. “ _And_ bottoming.”

“I suppose I like that too,” Draco said softly.

“You bloody well do,” Harry smirked. Draco flicked his nose, and Harry scowled at him. Draco snickered.

“So we’ve got the whole day to ourselves,” he said. “What shall we do?” Harry sighed, folding his arms behind his head.

“Dunno,” he murmured. “Aside from having mad, passionate sex, you mean?”

“Yes,” Draco said, lips stretching into a grin. “Aside from having mad, passionate sex. Do you play chess?” he asked, sitting up. Harry sat up as well, spotting a chess board that had just appeared on the table in front of the couch.

“A little,” Harry said. “Ron beats me every time.” Draco arched an eyebrow at him.

“Well we can’t have that,” he drawled. “Come on, let’s play. Does this room supply food as well?” A platter of sandwiches appeared next to the chess board. “Guess so,” he laughed, getting off the bed. Harry followed him over to the couch, snatching up his boxers along the way. Draco did the same.

“I have to say it,” Harry said, plopping down on the couch. “I would _never_ have imagined you and me ending up like this. In fact, I’d have hexed anyone who suggested it only a couple of months ago.”

“I’d have hexed their entire family. Might have even thrown in an Unforgivable or two,” Draco smirked, meeting Harry’s eyes. Then he dropped his gaze, looking off to the side. “It’s still a bit hard to believe.”

“ _Very_ hard to believe,” Harry amended with a small smile. “Even harder to believe,” he started to say, drawing Draco’s eyes back to his, “is that I haven’t been this happy in over a year.” Draco’s cheeks went pink.

“Don’t suppose I was any help before,” he said sheepishly. “Though I’ll admit, it’s been awhile since I was this… _happy_ , too.” Draco’s nose wrinkled slightly. “Ugh, listen to me,” he muttered. Harry laughed.

“Alright. Make me good at chess,” he said cheerfully. “I’m determined to beat Ron before we graduate.” Draco happily obliged.

* * *

The following week, the war began.


	14. Chapter 14

Monday morning found Draco sitting with Harry at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d ended up there actually, because he was pretty sure that it was Harry’s turn to sit with him at the Slytherin table. Then again, he also wasn’t sure why they were up so bloody early in the first place, and it would have been a bit pointless to sit at Slytherin because, frankly, none of his friends were even there yet. As it was, Hermione was the only one of Harry’s friends sitting with them, and she was busy reading over her Transfigurations notes and revising for the test they had later that day.

“Why the hell are we eating breakfast so early again?” Draco asked, or rather, whined petulantly as he prodded absently at his oatmeal. He was bent over the table, elbow propped on top of it and cheek resting on his hand.

“Because,” Harry said through gritted teeth as he struggled with a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans that Ron had brought him back from Hogsmeade. It was apparently refusing to open. “I asked you what time you wanted to meet up this morning, and this was the time you gave me. So I dragged myself out of bed and came down with Hermione. S’not my fault you don’t know what time breakfast runs ‘til after six years of being here.” Draco frowned, watching as Harry began pulling the bag in different directions, grunting slightly.

“I’m sure I didn’t suggest such an ungodly hour,” he said haughtily, chin lifting a bit. “You must have heard me wrong.”

“Yeah, of course, that must be what happened,” Harry muttered sarcastically. He gave a final tug at the jelly beans, and then tossed them onto the table and glared at them with his arms crossed.

“Are you sure you should be eating those for breakfast, Harry?” Hermione asked, not even looking up from her notes. Harry rolled his eyes, aware that Hermione wouldn’t notice, and began tearing at the bag again.

“I’m not eating them _for_ breakfast,” he grunted, baring his teeth as he pulled. “I’m eating them _with_ breakfast. Actually, I’m not even eating them at all because this _bloody fucking bag_ won’t OPEN!”

“Harry!” Hermione scolded, glancing up at him this time. “Language!” Harry ignored her, tugging yet harder at the bag, and Draco chuckled.

“You look like you’re constipated, Potter,” he smirked.

“Thanks, Draco, I love you, too,” Harry muttered absently, arms falling to his sides as he dropped the jelly beans once more onto the table. Draco’s eyes widened slightly as Harry snagged a piece of bacon and obliviously stuffed it into his mouth, and then his eyes went wide as well and he sucked in a breath that instantly had him choking on the bacon. “Er- I…I-I m-m-mean-” he coughed, grabbing his drink and taking a few quick gulps from it. “I mean-…what I meant was-…that wasn’t what I meant,” he finished lamely, cheeks burning and eyes now concentrating fixatedly at his plate. Draco blinked, feeling his face heat up, and he looked somewhere in the opposite direction.

“I should hope not,” he said in a somewhat forced careless tone, glancing back at Harry. Harry’s gaze at his plate narrowed slightly as his face tightened, and Draco bit his lip. “I mean…ahh…hmmm.” There was an awkward moment of silence that Hermione somehow managed to ignore, and then Draco said quickly, “Pass the kippers, would you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Harry answered just as fast. He handed them over, and suddenly the moment was over and Harry went back to trying to open his Bertie Bott’s and Draco pushed more food around his plate. Across the table from them, Hermione sighed deeply and closed her notebook. “Finished?” Harry asked.

“No, I’ll have to look it over again during lunch,” Hermione replied, reaching across the table and grabbing a platter of toast. “I wasn’t exactly clear on some of the theory work in chapter eleven.” She began spreading marmalade across her toast.

“Oh, right,” Harry murmured inattentively. Hermione looked at him closely, and then sighed again and set down her knife.

“Harry, I’ve been meaning to ask you…well, I’ve been meaning to ask both you and Draco, actually.” Draco glanced up when he heard his name and gave the girl a bored ‘I’m-listening-but-I’m-definitely-not-interested’ sort of look. Hermione continued nervously, “I mean, we don’t really learn this sort of thing at Hogwarts and I’m sure the Dursleys didn’t tell you anything…and it’s not exactly the sort of thing you talk about with your friends, and I’m sure Mrs. Weasley will want to talk to you about it but she probably thinks she doesn’t have to yet. And I have no idea about Draco, but I thought I should just go ahead and make sure-”

“Hermione!” Harry interrupted, sharing a brief amused look with Draco. The other boy rolled his eyes and lifted his glass to his lips. “Just say whatever you’re trying to say, would you?”

Hermione nodded and took a deep breath, and just as Harry gave the bag a particularly hard tug, she blurted out, “I just want to make sure you and Draco are practicing safe sex.” Draco promptly choked on his drink and Harry jerked, finally ripping the bag open and sending tiny jelly beans flying through the air. They landed all over the table, some even splashing into the pumpkin juice pitchers in front of them while others rolled off the edge and fell onto the floor. Several bounced off Harry’s glasses, but he was too busy giving Hermione a bug-eyed look to notice.

“What was that?” he asked in a strangled tone as Draco coughed heavily from beside him. He absently hoped the boy could still breathe, but he was too frozen with shock to check. Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes, and composed herself.

“I want to make sure you and Draco are practicing safe sex,” she repeated in a much more controlled voice. “I’m not entirely sure what type of diseases you can contract in the wizarding world, but I know that as a sexually active homosexual in the muggle world you have to be very careful not to get HIV-”

“Gah! H-Hermione!!” Harry spluttered, hands gripping the edge of the table. He was still giving her that bug-eyed look. “You can’t just ask us that!”

“Yes I can, and I believe I just did,” Hermione retorted. “Now, I looked up some protective spells-”

“ _Hermione!_ ”

“ _Harry,_ ” Hermione threw back at him. “You’re going to listen to what I’ve got to say!”

“No I’m not!”

“It’s not really any of your business, is it, Granger?” Draco croaked as he finally was able to get enough air into his lungs to talk.

“It most certainly is my business,” Hermione said. “He’s my friend. I just want to make sure-”

“Hermione, _please_ ,” Harry groaned, folding his arms across the table and burying his face into them. The tips of his ears were red.

“Have you been using condoms?” Hermione asked clinically. Harry’s head shot up and he gave her a wild look.

“Where the hell would I get _condoms_ from?”

“What the hell _are_ condoms?” Draco asked loudly, which earned him a strange look from Justin Finch-Fletchey who was walking by their table on the way to Hufflepuff. Hermione gave Harry a somewhat disappointed look.

“I would have expected you to know at least _some_ of this!” she admonished.

“I do!” Harry insisted. “But- _Merlin_ , Hermione, we’ve never even been with anyone else! Where would we be getting any of these-these _diseases_ from?”

“It never hurts to start practicing early,” Hermione sniffed, raising her chin slightly. Harry groaned again and Draco snickered despite himself.

“If I let you give me a list of…of the _protective spells_ you looked up, will you shut up about it and let me pretend we never had this conversation?” Harry asked weakly. Hermione huffed.

“Oh, _fine_ ,” she said exasperatedly, turning back to her notes. “I suppose so.”

“Thank the gods,” Harry muttered.

“Harry, what are condoms?” Draco asked quickly and quietly, leaning towards his boyfriend as he did so. Harry blushed.

“Erm…well…” he stuttered, but then luckily he was distracted as the rest of his dorm mates plopped into seats around him.

“Morning, Harry,” Seamus said cheerfully, helping himself to the kippers. Harry nodded at him before turning his attention to Ron, who had just sat down beside Hermione.

“Hey, Harry,” he greeted absently, pouring himself some pumpkin juice. Harry cleared his throat, making Ron roll his eyes as he scowled at the blond across from him. “Malfoy,” he said stonily. Harry grinned and Draco smirked.

“Weasley,” he said, feigning cheerfulness. He attempted a grin, though he really didn’t try too hard and it ended up looking more like a sneer than anything else. Ron snorted.

“Why are there jelly beans all over the table?” Neville asked curiously from his spot beside Ron.

“Er…”

“Harry, _what_ are condoms?” Draco hissed so no one else would hear.

“Ahh…” He was saved from answering both questions as the mail arrived and owls began sweeping through the Great Hall. Though this only distracted Draco for a second, because once he’d made sure he hadn’t gotten any owls, he began tugging on Harry’s sleeve again. Harry rolled his eyes, and suddenly Hermione gasped loudly and once again he didn’t have to answer Draco’s question.

“Harry!” Hermione said frantically, looking at him with wide eyes. She opened her mouth a few times as she tried to say something, and then eventually just shoved her newspaper at him and began wringing her hands.

“Hey, dad sent me a letter,” Ron was saying, but Harry was too busy staring down at the Daily Prophet’s headline to care. His hands clenched around the paper so tightly it began tearing slightly at the bottom.

_**DEATH EATERS ATTACK IN DEVON  
Dark Mark found above muggleborn’s home. No one left alive.** _

Harry read the article quickly and looked up to find Ron and Hermione watching him anxiously.

“Dad sent me a letter about it,” Ron said quietly. “Said he’d keep us posted so we get the facts and not whatever rubbish the Prophet might come up with.”

“Good,” Harry said, looking back down at the article. “That’s good… Wait, did the Death Eaters in Azkaban escape?” Hermione looked at Ron, still wringing her hands, but Ron was already scouring his letter for the answer.

“…No,” he replied eventually, not looking up. “No, dad specifically said they didn’t.”

“I suppose it was too much to hope that the ones we put in prison would really put a dent in You-Know-Who’s plans,” Hermione murmured. “I mean, we only got how many captured?” Harry shrugged.

“Six or seven maybe? The worst got away...that LeStrange bitch,” he said bitterly. He skimmed the article once more, eyes landing on the family’s name. “Hawthorne… Why does that sound familiar? Do we known any Hawthornes?”

“Maybe you’re getting them mixed up with Nathaniel Hawthorne,” Hermione suggested. She rewarded with blank looks. “Oh come on! He wrote The Scarlet Letter!”

“Because we’ve all read _that_ ,” Ron muttered. “Was he a muggle?”

“Andy Hawthorne,” Draco interrupted suddenly, causing Harry to jerk in surprise and nearly knock over his drink. Hermione and Ron both looked startled as well, and it was obvious they’d both also completely forgotten Draco was even there. “You should remember him, Harry; he was the Ravenclaw seeker for our first and second year. Shame he had to go and get himself killed, he was a rather good player,” Draco continued in a quiet, almost bored tone. “I didn’t know he was muggleborn, though. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I just remembered I left one of my books in the common room.” With that, Draco pushed away from the table and walked quickly out of the Great Hall. Harry watched him go, sighing.

“I forgot he was there,” he said softly, turning back to Hermione and Ron. “I wouldn’t have mentioned the Death Eaters in Azkaban…or LeStrange either, for that matter.” Hermione looked at him sympathetically, but Ron frowned.

“You can’t hold back just because of his dad,” he said. “It’s the bastard’s own fault he was thrown in prison. And he damn well deserved it, too!”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry replied, fiddling with a loose string on the cuff of his robe. “But still…”

* * *

The attack on Monday wasn’t just a one-time thing. There was another headline in the paper on Tuesday, and two more in Wednesday’s edition. By Thursday everyone was getting antsy. There were often hushed conversations in the corridors, and occasionally a worried student would burst out in tears. Hermione was beginning to look like she was going to be one of those students. Harry had come down from his dorm late on Wednesday night, unable to sleep, only to find his friend still wide awake with maps and newspaper copies spread out on the table in front of her.

“I can’t find a pattern,” she’d whispered frantically, eyes wide and moving quickly across the papers before her. She’d circled all the places that had been attacked so far. Harry had watched her for a painful moment before sitting down beside her.

“Hermione, there’s only been four attacks so far,” he’d told her gently. “You’re not likely to find any sort of pattern.”

Indeed, the only thing similar about the attacks was that they were all on muggleborn wizard’s families. Not surprising, certainly, but worth noting. On two of the attacks, the actual wizard hadn’t even been present, and only the rest of the family had been murdered. Ron’s father was still sending them letters every morning, under specific directions not to share them with anyone else but Ginny. They always held a bit more detail than the Daily Prophet did, though really, it wasn’t much. Nonetheless, it was encouraging to be included and informed about what was happening. Especially if it had anything to do with the Order.

Harry had received a letter from Remus on Wednesday. It didn’t say much besides telling him to be careful, stay safe, and not do anything rash. There was a short paragraph telling him that the Order had been holding meetings trying to come up with a plan, but apparently there really wasn’t much they could do at the moment. Nearly every letter the trio received restated the fact that, yes, all the captured Death Eaters were still in Azkaban. Harry vaguely wondered if maybe he should tell Remus that he was currently dating Lucius Malfoy’s son.

Or maybe he should first tell the older man that he was gay…

Or perhaps not.

Thursday dawned with the reports of yet two more attacks, and Professor Sprout had to quickly usher a third-year Hufflepuff out of the Great Hall before the paper had even arrived.

She was the first from Hogwarts to lose her family in the attacks.

Harry sighed and poked at his food. He had absolutely no appetite and he steadily ignored Hermione sternly telling him to eat. Glancing up, he unconsciously raked his eyes up and down the Slytherin table until he found Draco, and then he went about staring at him until the boy looked up and noticed him.

Draco was talking to Pansy about the Potions essay they were supposed to have done for class that day, but he got bored of the conversation fairly quickly. Sighing agitatedly, he glanced over at the Gryffindor table, jerking slightly when he saw Harry staring at him.

Well, it was about bloody time!

Draco had barely spoken to Harry at all that week, aside from the hurried greetings they threw to each other in the hallway. They hadn’t even talked in the classes they shared together, and whenever Draco thought he might approach the other boy, Harry was always involved in hurried, anxious conversations with his two sidekicks. They hadn’t eaten together since Monday either, though really, Draco told himself, it was Harry’s fault. He’d been brushed off more times than was acceptable ever since the Dark Lord had begun these attacks, and fuck all if he was going to try and talk to the other boy again.

But then Harry grinned at him and dug into a bowl of oatmeal, eating each bite as slowly as possible and languorously licking the spoon clean in the most provocative way possible each time.

Oh hell.

Breakfast finished and Draco was on his feet and headed for the doors less than thirty seconds after Harry had left. He hadn’t gone far; Harry was still lingering around the entrance hall, having another one of those hushed conversations with his friends. Draco moved towards them just as they began heading for the staircase, and he cursed under his breath before throwing patience to the wind and calling out to his boyfriend.

“Harry!” he said angrily, not particularly surprised when the other boy didn’t seem to hear him. “Oy, Potter!” Harry turned that time, and the look that lit up his face almost made up for the first four days of the week.

“Draco,” he said happily, moving toward him. Draco was attempting to look annoyed and project ‘don’t-you-fucking-touch-me’ vibes, but apparently that didn’t deter the almighty boy-who-lived because Harry was reaching for his wrist and gently closing his fingers around it while he pressed a quick kiss to Draco’s lips.

Draco glowered at him for a moment, but Harry honestly didn’t seem to think anything was wrong, so Draco heaved a huge sigh and all but threw himself at Harry, meeting his lips eagerly. Harry’s arms quickly wrapped themselves around Draco’s waist, and the couple remained like that, kissing gently for a few seconds before they were interrupted by Ron coughing loudly. Draco turned to spit an insult out at him, but Harry quickly caught his chin and turned his face back toward his own.

“What’s your last class today?” he asked quietly. “Herbology, right?” Draco blinked, surprised that he knew that, and nodded.

“Why?”

“Can you skip? You’re good at Herbology.”

Draco’s lips quirked upwards and he slid his hands down from Harry’s shoulders to his chest and fisted the material of his robe there. “I suppose I could skip,” he said loftily. “If it’s for a good cause.” Harry grinned, pushing his hips forward slightly against Draco’s.

“It’s for a _very_ good cause,” he murmured. “Meet me outside Gryffindor?” Draco paused, leaning back a bit so he could look more easily at Harry.

“…Alright,” he said softly. “I’ll be there.”

* * *

They managed to keep themselves occupied straight through dinner, moving, sliding, and writhing against each other. They put their mouths to good use, leaving hot, sticky, wet trails down each other’s naked bodies. It might have irked Draco that he’d be back to wearing turtlenecks for the weekend, but at the moment he was too sated to care.

And besides, Harry would be joining him this time, which just made it all the better.

“Mmmm, that feels good,” Harry murmured, wrapping his arms more tightly around Draco’s waist. They were still lying in Harry’s bed, and Harry was resting halfway down Draco’s body, cheek flat against the boy’s stomach. Draco absently ran his hand through Harry’s hair again and stared up at the ghastly red color of the bed canopy. Sighing, he twined his legs with Harry’s and began trailing his other hand up and down Harry’s back. Harry let out a content groan, wriggling yet closer to Draco and propping his chin up so he could look at Draco’s face. Draco lowered his eyes from the ceiling and met Harry’s.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do it in your bed,” he muttered, pulling at a lock of Harry’s hair. “I mean, this is _your_ bed, right?” Harry snickered.

“Of course it is,” he said, smiling gently at Draco. “And we stuck to your terms, didn’t we?” Draco, still absolutely positive that should they actually have sex in Harry’s room, Murphy’s Law would come into play and all of Harry’s roommates would walk in and see him with Harry’s cock up his arse, had absolutely refused anything more intimate than a blowjob. “Just frottage and fellatio.” Draco’s hand paused on Harry’s back.

“… _Frottage?_ ” he repeated, snorting. “There’s actually a name for it?”

“Apparently,” Harry grinned. He pulled himself upright, crawling over Draco and plopping down beside him before reaching into the drawer of his bedside table and pulling out a book.

“Your roommates will be back soon,” Draco said, grunting a little as he sat up and rested back against the headboard. “Silencing spell, maybe?” Harry shrugged and cast the spell around the bed quickly. Then he handed the book to Draco.

“That’s the book I keep telling you about,” he said. “The one that Seamus got me for Christmas.” He flipped it open to a random page that was illustrated with various animated pictures of two men moving against each other. Draco’s lips parted as he stared down at it.

“ _Merlin_ ,” he gasped, turning the page. “Bloody-! Is that even possible?” Harry laughed.

“We’ll have to work on our flexibility,” he said with a smirk. Draco turned another page, eyes following the movements of the animated pictures. Harry watched with him, leaning against the boy and reveling in how they seemed to fit perfectly against one another. He watched as Draco bit his lip slightly when he moved onto another page, and, grinning, he began rubbing his fingers in small circles along the inside of Draco’s thigh. Draco moaned lightly.

“Harry…” he murmured, and Harry slid his fingers farther up his leg. Groaning, Draco slid a little ways down the pillow, legs spreading out a bit as he continued studying the book. Harry chuckled and wrapped his fingers around Draco’s rapidly hardening cock. Draco gasped and spread his legs even wider so that he could press up more easily into Harry’s hand.

“Want to see how long you can hold out?” Harry asked, tightening his grip. Draco grit his teeth.

“And why the hell would I want to do that?” he asked in a strangled voice. He gasped again and tossed the book somewhere toward the foot of the bed. “It won’t be much longer at this point anyway.” Harry curled himself around Draco’s side, sliding the palm of his hand over the head of Draco’s cock and running his thumb across the slit. Draco’s hips bucked upwards and he sucked in a breath loudly as his head fell back against the pillows. Grinning in a very self-satisfied sort of way, Harry stroked down and pulled back up, building a rhythm that quickly increased in speed. “Nggh-Harry!” Draco exclaimed in a choked voice, hand darting out and clasping down on the boy’s shoulder, and then his back was arching and he was coming into Harry’s hand.

Harry continued pulling, milking every last drop out of Draco until the boy collapsed in a heap back onto the bed, breathing heavily. Reaching for his wand, Harry cast a quick cleaning spell and fell against Draco’s side again, laying an arm heavily over Draco’s waist. Draco glanced at him through strands of hair that he was too lazy to push out of his eyes.

“You want…?” he trailed off, glancing down at Harry’s lap, but Harry just smiled and shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said, kissing Draco’s shoulder. Draco snorted and began digging around beneath the covers for his wand.

“ _Accio_ book,” he said lazily, pointing towards the foot of the bed. Harry laughed as Seamus’ gift flew through the air and Draco caught it, settling himself in and flipping through it again.

“Stay here tonight,” Harry said suddenly, arm tightening around Draco’s waist. Draco sighed, setting the book down heavily in his lap. “Come on, Draco,” Harry pleaded.

“No,” Draco responded evenly.

“Why not?” Harry asked, face clouding over. “Why do always refuse to stay with me?” Draco sat up, shoving the bed covers out of his way, and began pulling his y-fronts back on.

“I’m not refusing to stay with you, I’m refusing to stay in your room,” he said.

“ _Why?_ ”

“I just don’t fancy waking up with a bunch of Gryffindors is all.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Harry said angrily, throwing the covers off himself so he could pull his boxers on as well. “You never stay with me in the Room of Requirement either.”

“What’re you so upset about?” Draco asked incredulously, turning to face Harry and propping his hands up on his hips. “We’ve been together for all of a week and a half! We don’t need to be…be… _moving in_ with each other yet!”

“Moving in- It’s not moving in!” Harry exclaimed. “It’s you staying the night with me every once in a while.” Draco frowned, pursing his lips together.

“Well I don’t want to,” he said in a hard voice, pulling his trousers on now. He looked around for his shirt, vaguely wondering where the hell it had gotten to.

“What are you so afraid of?” Harry asked quietly, eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“… _Afraid of?!_ I’m not _afraid_ of anything!” Draco shouted, turning around to face Harry. His hands curled into fists at his side. “Why are _you_ so obsessed with _sex?_ ” Harry blinked, mouth falling open in disbelief. “That’s why you want me to stay, right?”

“I am not obsessed with sex!” he said indignantly. “What the fuck gave you _that_ idea?”

“It’s all that we do!” Draco said exasperatedly. “The only time we’re ever together is when we’re _fucking_.”

“We studied together last week!”

“Oh, and that turned out just perfect! We had a huge argument and then the first thing you said afterwards was something about _make-up sex!_ ”

“That’s…that’s not-”

“You didn’t even look twice my way the entire week, and the first time I _finally_ managed to get a chance to talk to you, what did you say?” Harry floundered, mouth opening and closing as he didn’t know what to say, and Draco plundered on angrily, “You wanted me to meet you up here. So we could have sex. Because Merlin knows, the great _Harry fucking Potter_ can’t go more than four days without a shag!” Harry’s mouth closed with a snap and he breathed in harshly through his nose.

“You are so far off the mark-” he began to say quietly, dangerously.

“I don’t think I am!” Draco interrupted loudly.

“Well I don’t believe I heard you arguing!” Harry said. “You seemed pretty eager to come up here. And for that matter, you didn’t talk to me the rest of the week either-”

“I tried to talk to you every damn day!” Draco exclaimed. “You’ve been ignoring me!”

“I have _not_ been ignoring you!”

“Ever since these fucking attacks, you’ve barely spoken a word to me! You’re always talking to the fucking _mudblood_ or something!”

“DON’T CALL HER THAT!!” Harry roared, nails digging into the palm of his hands. Draco actually took a step back, eyes narrowing. “And you know what?” Harry continued viciously. “I hate to break it to you, _Malfoy_ , but the world _doesn’t_ revolve around you! There _are_ more important things happening!” Draco stood there silently for a moment, before yanking his shirt up from where it was peeking out under the bed and pulling it on. He quickly grabbed his robe and bag and then stormed towards the door. Harry sighed and shut his eyes. “Draco,” he said tiredly.

“Fuck you, Potter,” Draco shot at him, before slamming the door behind him on his way out.

* * *

Harry retreated to the common room later that night as his roommates began taking over their bedroom, because he really didn’t feel like dealing with Seamus’ antics or Ron’s questioning about why he was in such a bad mood. Apparently everyone had still been at dinner when Draco had stormed out earlier, because no one asked him about it.

The common room was fairly empty, but he found Hermione sitting on the couches in front of the fireplace, bent over her Ancient Runes textbook.

“Hey, Harry,” she greeted absently when he sat down beside her. “I didn’t see you at dinner.”

“That’s because I wasn’t there,” he said dryly, looking at the maps still spread out on the table. “Have you added today’s attacks?” Hermione looked up and sighed, shutting her textbook and setting it off to the side.

“I did,” she answered quietly, running her hand lightly over the edge of the map. “There’s been six so far. But still no pattern I can decipher. They’re just…all over the place! It’s so frustrating…” She trailed off, resting her chin on her fist and staring into the fire. Harry sighed, falling back against the couch, and Hermione turned her head to look at him. “What’s wrong, Harry?”

“Nothing,” he said quietly. Then he sighed again. “Draco,” he corrected, and buried his face into his hands. “Oh… _God_ , Hermione, what was I thinking?” he said, voice muffled by his hands before he looked up into the fire. “Me and _Malfoy?_ What possessed me into thinking that anything between us could work?”

“What happened?” Hermione asked worriedly.

“He was just…well…I dunno, I suppose some of it was my fault too. Or…all of it, rather.” Harry groaned. “I just keep _pushing_ him, and he says the only reason I’m in this thing is for the-…erm, well-”

“The sex?” Hermione suggested, smiling a little. Harry blushed and nodded.

“The sex,” he repeated. “Even though I’m _not_. I mean…I think I’m not. But then he said I was _ignoring_ him-… Fuck, I guess I was. But it’s not like I can talk to him about all of this!” Harry gestured angrily towards the maps in front of him as he spoke. He heaved a great sigh, tangling his hands into his hair. “Bugger,” he said simply. Hermione sighed as well, patting Harry’s thigh.

“This is all my fault,” she said tiredly. Harry snorted.

“Yeah, right.”

“No really, it is.” She turned to face her friend, looking absolutely miserable. “Harry, at the beginning of the year, you were an absolute wreck. You were depressed, you barely talked to anyone…and I know you had every right to feel wretched, what with….what with Sirius and all.” Harry winced slightly, looking away, and Hermione leaned against his side, curling her legs beneath her on the couch. “But as your friend,” she continued, “I was worried about you. Merlin, I was so worried.”

“You’re always worried,” Harry said, smiling gently. “A mother hen, that’s what you are.” Hermione grinned a little, swatting at his shoulder, before her smile fell again.

“When we started the truth or dare games…I…well, there’s always been something about Mal-… _Draco_ that made you come alive. Not in a good way, certainly,” she said quickly, when Harry looked at her incredulously. “He just makes you _react_ , no matter what mood you’re in. And when you had to kiss him…you just kind of came back to yourself. Suddenly you had something else to worry about that didn’t involve the death of a loved one, and not that you _forgot_ about Sirius, but you were able to let go. To continue, to move on, to worry about something silly and mundane for once.” She grinned at Harry. “I know you spent your weeks worrying about what would happen when Saturday rolled around. How long would you have to kiss him, how much farther would you have to go…”

“I’m surprised I don’t have grey hair from how much I stressed over that,” Harry admitted, cheeks turning slightly red.

“I’m not sure how Pansy and I ended up talking about it,” Hermione said, glancing towards the ceiling as she thought about it. “But suddenly we were discussing it and what good could come from it and what bad… Draco was in a slump same as you were, according to Pansy. What with his father in prison and all. It was like the rug had been pulled from beneath him and there was no one willing to help him up again. According to her anyway. And then suddenly he was back to his usual prat self as well. Potter this and Potter that, I hate him, he’s such a twit, so on and so forth.” Harry snorted and Hermione giggled a bit. “This is what Pansy told me, remember.”

“Right.”

“So really, we were both just being selfish, I guess. But it was _such_ a relief to have you two sniping at each other again. And then… Well, I mean, you took it upon yourselves to _practice_ ,” Hermione laughed again, “but we certainly pushed you into it. I don’t know if I actually wanted or expected you to become involved in a _relationship_ with Draco, but gradually you started looking happy again, so I wasn’t going to put a stop to anything that was happening.” She sighed. “So I encouraged it. I thought it might do you some good.”

“Shot in the dark, really,” Harry murmured. “You couldn’t have known I was gay, much less that _he_ was. Hell, _I_ didn’t know I was gay.” Hermione shrugged.

“You can only be friends with someone for so long before you start questioning things,” she grinned. “I’ve kind of wondered ever since that bit with Cho…” Harry winced a little and Hermione chuckled. “Anyway, Harry, the point is that it was selfish on my part. I practically pushed you into a relationship with a boy you’ve hated for five years. I didn’t stop to think about what would happen once you were together. How can you possibly set aside a rivalry that big within a month?” She sighed, shaking her head slightly.

“Hermione,” Harry said slowly, “I think you’re right on some parts. The pushing thing, maybe. But, starting the relationship?” He smiled tiredly. “That was all me. I fell for him, I _knew_ I was falling for him. It was like I completely forgot we’d hated each other.” Harry let out a long breath, head falling back against the couch. “I’ll have to apologize to him tomorrow. I’m not ready to give up on this yet.” Hermione smiled at him.

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder. Harry slid his arm around her waist, pulling her tightly again his side, and they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, staring at the dying flames of the fire.

“Ron would kill me if he saw us right now, you know,” Harry quipped a while later. 

Hermione smacked him on the shoulder with an exclamation of, “Harry!” Then she promptly blushed and Harry laughed and settled back against the couch again.

* * *

Harry woke up on Friday with a tingling scar and the fight he and Draco had had completely forgotten. He trudged down to breakfast behind Ron, and once there he sat and stared at his food, rubbing his head in an attempt to ease his headache away and trying to ignore the awful foreboding feeling sweeping through him.

Then the mail arrived and the Daily Prophet kindly informed everyone, in big, bold letters that took up three-quarters of the front page:

_**MINISTER DECLARES WIZARDING WORLD OFFICIALLY AT WAR!** _

And there had been another attack. Wonderful. Harry groaned and dug his hands into his hair as Hermione frantically read through the article. New letters from Mr. Weasley and Remus arrived, each baring nothing noteworthy. The entire Great Hall was nearly silent, with only small murmurings of conversation here and there. Everyone looked miserable.

It wasn’t until lunch that Harry thought to look over at Draco and see how he was taking the news, and only then did he remember that they’d had another argument the night before. He waited until after dinner to approach the other boy.

“Draco, I need to talk to you,” Harry said quickly before Draco could disappear with Pansy down to the dungeons. Draco turned to look at him silently for a moment, and then he nodded and waved Pansy on.

“Alright, Potter,” he said once she’d left. “Talk.” He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. Harry wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say, and he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. This was Draco Malfoy he was dealing with, after all. Perhaps _groveling_ would work…

“Draco, I’m sorry,” he finally said, eyes sliding shut. “I’m sorry I was ignoring you this week. I honestly didn’t realize-… I mean, I’ve just been so distracted with everything else…” Harry trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared off to the side. “I’m sorry,” he said again, meeting Draco’s gaze now. “And I’m not just with you for the sex. …Though the sex _is_ great, you have to admit.” He grinned and Draco smirked slightly.

“Sometimes,” he said levelly, and Harry winced before rolling his eyes.

“Look, it’s going to be hard,” he plowed on. “There’s no way it’s not going to be because…because it’s you and me and nothing is ever easy for the two of us.”

“You think?” Draco quipped sarcastically.

“The point is,” Harry continued, ignoring him, “I want to try. I’m not ready to give up yet.” He bit his lip slightly, staring at Draco. “Can we…can _I_ …can I have a second chance?” Draco looked thoughtful.

“I’m not sure,” he said slowly, glancing towards the ceiling. Harry rolled his eyes.

“ _Please?_ ” he asked indulgently.

“That was pretty poor as far as apologies go, you know.”

“Well if you think I’m going to get on my knees and _beg_ …”

“I dunno, I quite like you on your knees…”

“You’re just as bad as I am!” Harry exclaimed exasperatedly. “You think _I’m_ the one obsessed with sex?” Draco smirked.

“Well the sex _is_ good.” Harry laughed a little and stepped closer to Draco.

“Am I forgiven then?” he asked. Draco sighed theatrically.

“I guess so,” he said. Grinning, Harry closed the distance between them, trapping Draco’s body against the wall with his own, and Draco positively leered at him.

“Shall we try to go at least a week without fighting this time?” Harry said jokingly, resting his forehead against Draco’s.

“Sounds like a good goal,” Draco replied. “But if you piss me off again, I’m gone for good.”

“Going to run to the other side of the castle, are you?”

“Yes, and I won’t even go to Potions anymore just so I can avoid seeing you.”

“No, you can have that class and I’ll skip it. You can skive off Care of Magical Creatures instead.”

“We’ll have to work out a schedule for which meals we can attend.”

“And I guess Slytherin will have to find a new Seeker.”

“Fuck that, Gryffindor can find a new one!”

“You know I’ll beat whoever you have anyway, so I don’t think it’ll make too much of a difference.”

“My, aren’t we a cocky one?”

“You should know.” Harry grinned briefly, and then completely lost it and burst out laughing. Draco started chuckling as well, grabbing the sides of Harry’s robe and pulling him flush against him.

“I don’t like being ignored,” he said petulantly, brushing his lips against Harry’s.

“I know,” Harry said, kissing him back chastely. “I’m sorry.” And then he kissed him again.

* * *

Harry sat with the Slytherins for breakfast Saturday morning, though as soon as the mail arrived he kept glancing over his shoulder at Gryffindor. He rubbed at his scar distractedly.

“Harry,” Draco said, trying to get the boy’s attention. He laid a hand on Harry’s thigh beneath the table. “You ok?”

“M’fine,” Harry mumbled, biting into his toast. He rubbed his forehead again.

“You seem awfully grumpy this morning, Potter,” Pansy spoke up as she spread jam across her own bread. “What’s up?” Draco absently traced patterns along Harry’s leg.

“Just have a headache, is all,” Harry replied, twisting his head to look over his shoulder again.

“Checking on Granger?” Draco asked softly, taking a bite of his oatmeal. Harry snapped back around to look at him.

“What?” he asked quickly.

“It’s just that she’s seemed a bit preoccupied lately.” Draco took another bite. “Nervous.”

“Isn’t everyone?” Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly. Draco shrugged.

“I’m not.”

“Well maybe you should be.” Draco snorted and Harry frowned. He reached across Draco to grab his left arm, and then pulled back the sleeve of his robe and shoved the arm into Draco’s face. “Do you see a Dark Mark here?” he asked angrily.

“Well not yet,” Draco retorted, yanking his arm away.

“Then you’re a target!”

“I am not,” Draco said in an annoyed tone. “Besides, I’m at Hogwarts. He hasn’t attacked here yet. And it’s not like he’s going to attack the manor.” Harry exhaled heavily through his nose and searched around for the copy of the Daily Prophet he’d read earlier. Blaise was glancing at it now, but Harry yanked it out of his hands, ignoring the startled, “Hey!” and shoved the paper in Draco’s face.

“Did you actually read it this morning?” he asked.

“I don’t ever read it.”

“Well read it now. Just the headline.” Draco frowned, lips pursing together as he scanned the top of the page.

“Half-blood family… I thought all the attacks were on muggleborns?”

“They were,” Harry said shortly. “Until today. Read the second article.” Draco’s eyes moved lower on the page and then went wide.

“A Pureblood family?” he said disbelievingly. “Oh, wait.” He read a little more, and then scoffed. “The Prewetts, eh? Well they’re well-known muggle sympathizers, so that’s not really surprising. They’re a branch off of Weasley’s family, you know.” Harry rolled his eyes and tossed the paper somewhere off to the side.

“You’re impossible,” he groaned, and Draco grinned and patted him on the leg.

“Draco, you may want to consider who you’re currently dating,” Pansy said dryly. “I’m sure if there’s anything worse to the Dark Lord than a muggle sympathizer, it’s the person who’s fucking the boy-who-lived.”

“Well it’s not like he’s going to find out!” Draco said quickly, turning to Harry. “Right?”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. I invited him to our two-week anniversary,” Harry quipped sarcastically, and then promptly gave Draco an incredulous look. “What, do you think I floo him every night or something? Why the hell would I tell him? I kind of like having you around.”

“There, see, he can’t know then.”

“Have you told your mother yet?” Harry asked.

“ _No_ , I haven’t,” Draco replied, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t really like picturing that conversation.” Harry laughed shortly.

“No, I imagine not,” he said. “Is she, ah, involved with…umm…”

“No,” Draco said in a hard tone. “No, she’s not.” Harry nodded and began prodding at the food on his plate absently.

“Hey, it’s fairly nice out, isn’t it?” he asked suddenly, glancing up at the enchanted ceiling. “Let’s have lunch outside.”

“ _Outside?_ ” Draco repeated incredulously.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded excitedly, grinning. “Come on, we can get food from the kitchen.”

“You want to go on a picnic in the middle of winter?” Draco asked faintly.

“It’s not a picnic. It’s lunch.” Pansy giggled from across the table.

“Oh, go on, Draco. It sounds fun!” she said, still giggling. Draco glared at her.

“Alright then,” he finally said. “Lunch outside. Meet you out front?”

“Yeah, around midday. I’ll bring the food.”

* * *

There were no more attacks for the rest of the weekend, and the sudden peace actually lasted halfway into the following week. Though it was hardly a relaxing peace since everyone was nervous and on edge. Even Snape seemed even more bitter than usual, and his class was an absolute horror to get through on Tuesday.

On Wednesday, however, there were more headlines in the paper reporting new attacks, and the perpetual gloom now hovering over the school only darkened.

“It was in Kent again,” Hermione pointed out during breakfast, eyes scanning the article as she wrote random bits of information down on another piece of parchment. “That’s the second one there.”

“I’m amazed he hasn’t broken the other Death Eaters out of Azkaban yet,” Harry murmured, reading along with her. He frowned, running the back of his hand over his forehead. “Honestly, you’d think that would be the first thing he did.”

“Not too bright of him,” Ron agreed, nodding. He peered at Harry. “Scar bothering you?”

“Just a bit,” Harry admitted. “Been like this for a couple of days.” Hermione frowned.

“Did you tell Professor Dumbledore?”

“ _Yes_ , I told Dumbledore. _And_ I owled Remus.”

“Good, good.” Hermione nodded in approval.

“Is there still no pattern yet, Hermione?” Ron spoke up, looking down at Hermione’s notes.

“No,” she answered tiredly, setting the paper down. “And there’s not likely to be one. Wouldn’t be very strategic, would it?”

“Hermione, you know that anything you come up with, the Order will probably already know anyway,” Harry said. “Why do you keep trying?”

“I need to, that’s why,” Hermione said tartly. “It’s just something I have to do.” Harry shared a look with Ron while Hermione underlined something else on the Prophet and then copied it down on her paper.

“Morning, Harry,” Draco said as he suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “Budge over would you? I’m starving.” Harry blinked, startled to see him, and threw a quick look at Hermione, but the girl had already tucked the Prophet and her notes away in her bag. Draco paused as he was sitting down, glancing around at the unusually quiet trio. Harry coughed slightly.

“So, uh… You’re up kind of late, aren’t you?” Draco made an offhand noise.

“I overslept a bit,” he yawned, running a hand through his hair. “Figures, because I meant to go over my Ancient Runes notes before the exam. Do you have yours on you, Granger?” Hermione looked surprised that he was talking to her, but she recovered quickly and smiled.

“Of course, Draco, do you need to borrow them?”

“I’d be much obliged,” he nodded. Ron rolled his eyes.

“ _I’d_ be much obliged if you stopped sitting at our table,” he muttered.

“Ron!” Harry rebuked.

“Believe me, Weasley,” Draco said distractedly as he looked over Hermione’s notes, “I’d much prefer to have Harry sitting at my table, but as he insists on dining with you plebeians every so often,” he looked up, smirking, “I have to indulge him.” Harry frowned and pinched Draco’s leg, but Ron just scowled.

“How kind of you,” he said sarcastically. Draco grinned.

“I know,” he said easily. Ron gave him a flat look, Harry sighed, and the incident passed.

On Thursday morning, Hermione finally broke down.

Harry was eating with the Slytherins again and looking enviously at the chocolates Draco’s mother had just sent him when he heard the distant sound of someone bursting out into uncontrolled sobs and running from the Great Hall. The shocked sound of Ron’s voice shouting, “Hermione!” made him twist around in his seat just in time to see his friend disappear through the doors. He met Ron’s eyes briefly and cursed under his breath, turning back around and snatching the Daily Prophet from Pansy’s numb fingers. She had also been watching Hermione run from the Great Hall.

“Is it the Grangers this time?” Blaise asked, leaning over to skim the paper with Harry. Draco watched them steadily.

“No,” Harry eventually answered, still reading, and the relief around him was palpable. “No it’s not. Just…some muggle family in Suffolk.” He turned in his seat again, watching Ron walking quickly towards the doors.

“Harry-” Draco started to say, but Harry was already pushing away from the table.

“I’ve got to go,” he said obliviously, and all but ran for the doors.

“Harry!” Draco shouted again. It didn’t do any good. “Fuck,” he muttered, crossing his arms over the table and resting his chin on them. His brow furrowed. Pansy gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his arm, but Draco just scowled and jerked away. “Fucking Potter,” he spat. Pansy sighed.

Harry had caught up with Ron quickly and soon they were both running out the doors and across the grounds after Hermione. They found her standing by the edge of the lake, arms wrapped around herself.

“Hermione, are you ok?” Ron asked worriedly, breathing heavily.

“What’s wrong?” Harry panted as well. Hermione sniffed, rubbing her fists furiously against her eyes.

“N-nothing,” she said in a choked voice. “Nothing is w-wrong, I’m just being _stupid_.” Ron looked at Harry, who sighed.

“Hermione,” he said gently, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Her back shuddered beneath his touch, and she let out another sob.

“My p-p-parents live in Suffolk!” she finally burst out, new tears streaming down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around her waist again, turning slightly to face Harry. He didn’t move his hand from her shoulder as he took in her bloodshot eyes. “I’m…I’m s-s-o scared, Harry,” Hermione said quietly. “I’m _terrified_. I want to go home, I need to-to call my mother, I have to m-make sure they’re _okay_.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Harry said softly.

“Can’t you owl them?” Ron asked.

“ _No!_ ” Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head rapidly. Her chest heaved as she sobbed again. “N-no, I _can’t_. Didn’t you read the article? _Didn’t you?!_ ”

“Ah, no, I came straight after you,” Ron said sheepishly.

“I read it,” Harry said. “Or skimmed it, rather.” Hermione looked at him desperately, her eyes wide.

“They w-weren’t even associated with wizards at all!” she cried despairingly. “They were just _muggles_. It-it was a m-mistake, d-don’t you see? What if they’re watching the area? I c-can’t send my family an owl, what if s-someone sees? They’ll k-k-know it’s a wizard f-family!” Harry’s shoulders drooped and he had to look away as Hermione began crying all over again. She curled into herself, dropping slowly to her knees, and Ron was beside her in an instant, putting steadying hands on her shoulders. Hermione sobbed again, turning toward him and falling against his chest. Ron shot a startled look at Harry, who had crouched down behind Hermione. Harry widened his eyes, gesturing at their friend, and Ron gulped before circling his arms around her.

“It’ll be ok, Hermione,” he murmured nervously. “You’ll see.” Hermione shuddered and buried her face further into Ron’s chest. He tightened his arms.

“I’m so scared,” she whispered.

Harry found that he was too.

* * *

Draco didn’t get a chance to talk to Harry for the rest of the day, and on Friday morning he stormed into the Great Hall all prepared to give him a piece of his mind-

-only to find that all three trio members were absent from breakfast. As was Longbottom, not that Draco was particularly concerned about him. As he scanned the Gryffindor table, though, he noticed that Finnigan and Thomas looked exhausted. They were both practically falling asleep at the table. Two of the sixth-year girls were talking in hushed tones to each other, and the youngest Weasley girl had apparently changed locations and was sitting near Finnigan. She kept glancing at the two boys and then to the entrance of the Great Hall and back again. Even the Creevey brothers were worriedly subdued.

Draco frowned and was slowly heading towards the Slytherin table when the doors opened and there a sudden clamor of noise from the Gryffindor table.

“Where is he?”

“How’s Harry?”

“Is he ok?”

“What happened?”

“He didn’t _die_ , did he?”

Draco’s eyes shot wide open and he did an abrupt about-face. Weasley and Longbottom had just entered the Great Hall, both looking as tired as Thomas and Finnigan did.

“He’s fine, really, he’s ok,” Weasley was saying as he gathered pieces of toast onto a napkin. “Look, you all can talk to him later, I swear he’s ok.”

“Weasley,” Draco barked, coming to stand in front of the boy and crossing his arms. Ron looked at him, startled. “Where’s Harry?”

“No one told you?” Ron asked, surprised. Draco shifted awkwardly.

“Well I didn’t ask anyone…” he answered. Ron sighed.

“He’s in the hospital wing,” he said. Draco lips parted as his eyes widened again.

“What? _Why?_ What happened?” he asked quickly.

“His scar,” Ron said.

“…His _scar?_ ”

“Yeah, it’s been bothering him for over a week now. It happens sometimes. You know, when V-…Vol-…when You-Know-Who is acting up and such.”

“What do you mean… _bothering_ him?”

“Not really sure,” Ron admitted. “I think it burns or something. Every so often he’ll have a really bad attack. Like this one time last year, he was throwing up and everything.”

“You’re serious?” Draco asked disbelievingly. Ron nodded.

“He had a bad one last night. Or early this morning, I guess. I couldn’t wake him up and he was shaking so badly he fell out of bed and knocked his head on the nightstand.” Ron shook his head, grimacing. “Blood all over the place. Woke everyone up with that one.” He rubbed his eyes tiredly, and Draco vaguely wondered if he really realized who he was talking to. “Anyway, I said I’d bring Hermione back some breakfast-”

“I’ll do it,” Draco interrupted quickly. “You stay down here and eat.” Ron opened one eye, still rubbing at the other, and peered at him.

“You sure?” he asked. Draco nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, give that here, I’ll bring it to her.”

When Draco got to the hospital wing, he could hear voices from inside the ward. One of them sounded like Harry, so he assumed that the boy was awake.

“Harry?” he called tentatively, leaning in through the door. Hermione turned from where she was sitting beside one of the beds to look at him.

“Draco,” she said, sounding somewhat surprised. “What’re you-”

“Weasley told me,” Draco cut in. “And I brought you breakfast.”

“Oh.” Hermione blinked. “Thank you…”

“Is Harry awake?” Hermione bit her lip uncertainly and stepped away from the bed. Harry waved feebly at him from where he was lying beneath the covers. There was a length of gauze wrapped around his forehead.

“ _Merlin_ \- Are you ok?” Draco asked quickly before he could stop himself. Harry sighed.

“Oh, I’m fine. Madame Pomfrey healed it already, so I’ll be able to go to afternoon classes.” Draco nodded absently, casting a look at Hermione.

“D’you mind if I talk to him alone?”

“Not at all,” Hermione replied, walking towards the door. “Actually, I think I’ll just go join Ron for breakfast. I’ll stop by during lunch, alright, Harry?” Harry nodded, and Hermione left, shutting the door gently behind her. Then he smiled at Draco.

“So-” he started to say, but Draco interrupted.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Tell you what?”

“About your scar!”

“I…I didn’t think it was anything important. Not exactly worth telling you about,” Harry said slowly, blinking.

“Well that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Draco laughed shortly, but there was no humor in it. “You don’t think _anything_ is worth telling me!” Harry frowned.

“That’s not true at all!” he exclaimed. “What gave you that idea?”

“Your entire House knows about your scar!” Draco bit out angrily. “Every one of them was sitting down there, worried as fuck about you, and I had no idea!”

“The only reason they know is because they heard all the commotion this morning when Professor McGonagall had to call Madame Pomfrey up!” Harry shot back at him. Draco let out a frustrated sound, digging a hand into his hair.

“That’s not even the point,” he said bitterly. “You don’t talk to me about anything!”

“Yes I do-”

“ _No_ , you _don’t_! Not about anything important anyway.” Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Draco plowed on. “Everyone else in the castle is talking about these attacks. You talk with Weasley and Granger about the _attacks_. Whenever you’re with _me_ you just pretend as if nothing’s wrong. Like everything’s picture perfect in the world and we can both continue on our merry way. I’m fucking _tired_ of walking up to you when you’re in the middle of a conversation and then all of a sudden there’s that awkward silence. You can’t even talk about it with someone else whenever I’m around!”

Harry pursed his lips tightly together, before wetting them with his tongue and saying softly, “Draco, I can’t talk to you about the attacks.”

“Why the fuck not?!” Draco shouted incredulously. Harry remained silent and looked away. He stared hard at the water pitcher beside his bed, and suddenly a dawning comprehension filled Draco. “You don’t trust me,” he said faintly. Then, voice growing louder, “You don’t trust me at all!”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Harry said bitterly, crossing his arms. Draco blinked and sucked in a breath, taking a step away from the bed. “And how can I? How the _fuck_ do you expect me to trust you when every other word out of your mouth is about how you still have every intention of joining Voldemort?” Harry angrily shouted. “How do you expect me to deal with that?” Draco blinked again, breathing rapidly now, and he glanced off to the side.

“So you think…you think that I’d, what, steal all of Granger’s notes, all of your planning and scheming and run off with it and show it to the Dark Lord or something?” he asked slowly. Then, with increasing speed, “You think that I’d listen in to all of your conversations, pick out the important parts, and tell it to You-Know-Who? Maybe tell him where Granger’s parents live, or inform him that Finnigan’s a half-blood? You think I’d do that?”

“Draco, you’d _have_ to,” Harry groaned tiredly, running a hand over his face. “You can’t just be a Death Eater in name only; you have to get your hands dirty too.”

“What the fuck do you know?” Draco asked angrily.

“More than you, apparently!” Harry sighed. “I want to be able to trust you. I really do. But you make that impossible every time you condone what he’s doing. Every time you show that you don’t _care_... And anyway, when we started going together we agreed that we’d leave the whole Voldemort thing out of the relationship. Granted, it’s a lot harder to do that with what’s happening…” Harry groaned again in frustration and buried his hands in his hair. “And we talk about the Death Eaters in Azkaban, too, and your father’s one of them so I can’t very well talk to you about _that_.”

“My father’s not my only parent, you know,” Draco said suddenly. Harry looked up at him, and Draco hesitated before continuing, “My mother…she doesn’t…she doesn’t want me to get the mark. She wants me to have nothing to do with…with V-Vold-d-demort.” Draco shivered as he said the name. Harry stared at him.

“What do you mean?” he asked quietly. Draco scoffed, looking away.

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” he retorted. “She doesn’t want me to join him. She…she thinks he’s gone crazy. That he’s not the same as he used to be in the old days. That his new objective is to kill _you_ , rather than purify the wizarding world. Of course with recent happenings maybe she’s changed her mind…” Draco sighed. “Mother gave me this long lecture over winter break. She begged me to think about it. Said she’d support me no matter what, but I can tell…she _really_ doesn’t want me to join.”

“…And?” Harry asked, a hopeful tint to his voice. Draco exhaled heavily.

“And I’ve been…thinking about it. I guess. I mean, any mother would say that, wouldn’t she? How many mother’s _want_ their child to go off and become part of a war? No one wants to see their own child die.”

“Don’t I know it,” Harry said softly, smiling a little. “I’m living proof of that, after all.” Draco smiled briefly and walked over to sit on the foot of Harry’s bed.

“But then there’s my father,” he said heavily, frowning. “And I _know_ he wants me to join. To stand by his side, protect the pureblood family lines, expunge all those not worthy of our world… And I grew up hearing that and until very recently it was the only thing I knew to be true. I was right, everyone else was wrong.” Draco bit his lip, and then continued loudly, “But now he’s in fucking _prison_ because of it and the Ministry’s never going to think Death Eaters are a good thing and that path isn’t looking like a smart choice at the moment…even though I do still believe in what the Dark Lord’s trying to do. Or what he _was_ trying to do, rather, before you came along.” He looked at Harry, scowling. “Fuck, and then there’s _you_ in general and you just had to go and screw everything up because now I’m _doubting_ myself and my father and the entire world I used to know!”

Harry frowned. “So what’s you point?” he asked uncertainly. Draco sighed.

“Remember what you said? Last week?” Harry’s head tilted to the side and his brow furrowed as he thought back.

“Which part of what I said?”

“About how you weren’t ready to give up on us.”

“Oh.” Harry nodded. “Yeah, I remember that.”

“Well…” Draco squared his shoulders and looked Harry in the eye. “I’m not ready to up either.” Harry grinned, looking relieved. “I don’t know what good that is, though,” Draco admitted, looking away. “We basically have no future if I join the Dark Lord, and no offense, but I’m not ready to choose an entirely different path just for you.” Harry shrugged.

“Understandable,” he said, though he didn’t sound happy about it. Draco sighed.

“I’m my father’s son, right?” he said, looking at Harry again. “That’s what everyone thinks of me as. I was raised in his image and I’m supposed to follow his lead. Do what he expects me to do. But you know?” Draco smirked. “I’m my mother’s son, too.”

“That you are,” Harry said, smiling. “And you’re your own person, as well. Draco, you can do whatever the bloody fuck you want to. No one else’s lives have to define yours.”

“I suppose I’ve some serious thinking to do, don’t I?” Draco murmured. “And where does that leave us?”

“Back where we were, I guess,” Harry shrugged. Draco’s shoulders slumped forward a little, and Harry leaned towards him and turned his face back towards his own. “But I’d rather be there than not with you at all,” he whispered, smiling. Draco blinked, his cheeks going pink, and Harry claimed his lips in an open-mouth kiss. Groaning, Draco leaned into the other boy, tongue twining with Harry’s for a few seconds, before he pulled back.

“Me too,” he said quietly, eyes searching Harry’s face. “Me too.”


	15. Chapter 15

Later that night, after Harry had been released from the hospital wing, he was resting in his four-poster bed and staring aimlessly at the crimson canopy above him when the curtains parted and a blurred red-headed figure appeared above him.

“Skipped dinner?” asked Ron as Harry shoved his glasses onto his face.

“Wasn’t hungry,” Harry mumbled, pulling himself into an upright position and sitting back against the headboard.

“How’s your head?”

“S’alright.” Harry peered closely at Ron. “Something the matter?” Ron sighed, biting his lip slightly.

“Mind if I join you?” Harry blinked and gestured at the bottom half of his bed for Ron to sit down.

“What’s up?” he asked again. Ron frowned, resting his chin on his fist.

“I’m worried about…about Hermione,” he said gruffly, and despite himself, Harry grinned.

“Are you now?” he said cheerfully. Ron blushed, but nodded.

“Yeah. She…I mean…what with her parents in danger and all…I think she needs someone around who she can…you know…go to for…for comfort,” he stammered. “Or…something like that.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow. “And you think that person should be you?” he clarified in an amused tone.

“Well…yes,” Ron said, looking somewhere in the direction of Harry’s left elbow. “I mean…if she wants. Obviously. I wouldn’t- I mean, it’s up to her, of course.” His eyes darted back to Harry’s. “Do you think she would?”

“Would what? Date you? Be your girlfriend?”

“Er…” Ron blushed again, dropping his gaze. “Yeah. Yeah, that.”

Harry was silent for a moment, and then he grinned. “Ron, you prat, of course she would!” he exclaimed, and Ron looked at him, startled.

“Seriously?”

“Well of course! She’s probably only been waiting for you to ask her since about fourth year.”

“You-you think so? Really?”

“Yes.” Harry shook his head, smiling. “Ron, you’ve both been dancing around each other for ages. It’s about time you did something about it.”

“And you don’t have a problem with this?”

“No, I…well…” Harry paused, eyebrows furrowed. “Well, as long as you don’t end up like Cho and I did-”

“Afraid to speak to each other, you mean?” Ron smirked.

“Yeah, like that. Then I’m fine with it.”

“You’re sure?” Ron asked.

“Haven’t you supported me throughout this entire thing with Draco?” Harry pointed out. “It would be completely unfair for me not to do the same for you. You and Hermione were made for each other.” Ron flushed at that, but grinned sheepishly, looking relieved.

“Well good. I was worried you’d be…um, uncomfortable with it. Maybe.”

“Nah,” Harry said, smiling a little. “Not a bit.”

Ron nodded gratefully and, looking more relaxed, he leaned back on his elbows. “How’s the thing with _Draco_ going, anyhow?” he asked, drawing out Draco’s name like it was something particularly nasty. Which, Harry assumed, it probably was, to him. “Hermione says you’ve been having some problems lately. _Hermione_ says, mind. Didn’t hear anything about it from you.” Ron gave Harry a slightly annoyed look.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that,” Harry said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just…it feels odd, trying to talk about Draco with you. Not your fault.”

“But you don’t mind talking to Hermione about it?” Ron asked, sounding a little bit offended.

“I don’t go to her, trust me,” Harry said hastily. “She has a knack for knowing when something is wrong. She usually asks me about it and…well…hell, it’s Hermione! I mean, she was looking up safe sex spells for me when I hadn’t even thought of such a thing. It’s just how she is. Sometimes I think she’s more worried about the state of our relationship than I am…”

Ron was staring at him, wide-eyed. “She was looking up safe sex spells for you?” he repeated faintly. Harry nodded.

“I know,” he said. “She’s off her rocker.”

Ron laughed shortly. “That’s Hermione for you,” he said fondly. “Anyway, so what was wrong?”

“Just…stuff with the war,” Harry replied, frowning. “Basically I was pretending it didn’t exist and Draco was mad I was acting like we could forget about it.”

“I did notice that, actually. How we stopped talking about it whenever he came around.”

“Well…I mean, it’s not like we can talk about how much Lucius Malfoy deserves to get his soul sucked out five times over or something when Draco’s right there, you know?” Harry sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know how to handle it… And then he was mad I hadn’t told him about my scar.”

“Oh, so that’s why he seemed so surprised about it this morning.”

“Yeah.” They were silent for a few moments, Harry playing idly with the bed cover and Ron chewing his lip thoughtfully before speaking.

“Harry,” he began tentatively, frowning a little, “do you and Malfoy…I mean, obviously I’m not there when it’s just the two of you…but do you actually talk about much of _anything_?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked quickly. “Of course we talk.”

“I always thought…that it was more of a-a physical thing. Sort of.” Harry frowned, and Ron hastened to continue. “Not that I’m saying you’re like…like-”

“Fuck-buddies?” Harry supplied, sounding terse.

“Er…yeah. I mean, there’s obviously more to it than that, but you spend an awful lot of time in the Room of Requirement. And other then sitting with us at meals, Malfoy’s not really around all that much and you’re usually with us otherwise-”

“Ok, I get it,” Harry snapped. He looked disgruntled. “We’re not just…I…we…there’s more to it than the physical stuff,” he finally said firmly, even though his mind was going in circles suddenly. Hadn’t Draco basically said the same thing? Of course they’d been fighting at the time… And it’s not like they were at liberty to just go waltzing down to Hogsmeade for a proper date. There just weren’t a lot of options, really.

“Sorry,” Ron said softly.

“S’fine,” Harry murmured, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “It’s just…Draco said the same thing and I’m beginning to wonder…”

“Why do you like him?” Ron asked curiously. Harry shrugged, looking away.

“Sometimes I’m not sure,” he said, smirking a little. “He can be such a git at times.”

“At times?” Ron repeated incredulously. “Try _always_.”

Harry grinned. “Nah, he just…well, frankly he just doesn’t like you. And you don’t like him, but I wasn’t expecting that to change.”

Ron snorted. “Good,” he said, and paused for a second before continuing. “You know, I’m still half expecting you to end up with Ginny one day or something. It’s still hard to believe you’re with _Malfoy_ of all people.”

“Ginny’s with Dean, Ron,” Harry said, smiling. Then he shoved Ron a bit, saying impishly, “And redheads aren’t my type, anyhow.”

“Good thing, that,” Ron said, laughing. “I’ll soon be off the market, in any case. Hopefully,” he added as an afterthought. He peered at Harry for a second. “You really like it?”

“Like what?” Harry asked lazily, crossing his arms behind his head and sinking further into his pillows.

“Like…um…you know.” Ron made some crude gestures with his hands, and Harry’s eyes widened. “Doing… _it_.”

“It?” Harry laughed. “What are you, twelve?”

Ron blushed slightly. “Sex, then,” he said, rolling his eyes. Harry paused.

“Are we _really_ going to have this conversation?” he asked skeptically. Ron looked determined.

“Yes. I’m curious.” Harry nearly choked on his own spit.

“Not too curious, I hope,” he managed to say. “You’re supposed to be asking Hermione out.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “No!” he exclaimed. “I’m not curious like _that_ \- well, I guess I sort of am. If _you_ like it, I mean. Because…well…I can’t even imagine… But also…it’s just…I mean I haven’t even kissed someone properly and you’ve gone all the way and honestly, that’s really not fair at all but now I’m wondering what it’s like. Not that I didn’t wonder before but-”

“It’s good,” Harry cut in, amused, before Ron got too carried away and babbled on for the remainder of the night. “It’s…it’s fantastic. It’s...”

“Perfect?” Ron suggested. Harry laughed.

“No, it’s hardly perfect. Sex is…well…messy. You get sweaty and sticky, and you have to be careful or it hurts. Well, for boys, at least. I imagine it might be the same for a girl.”

“It hurts?” Ron asked blankly.

“Well…” Harry paused, nose wrinkling as he scratched idly at his ear. “I mean, think about it. I never did until Seamus told me to. If you’ve never…if nothing’s ever been-” he waved his hand vaguely, “-up there…then yeah, it hurts at first.”

“Then why do it?”

“Well it’s not like it’s torture the entire time. And even though it’s not perfect…just being that close to another person, feeling like…like…I mean, when they’re inside of- er…hmm…” Harry paused abruptly, blushing. “Well, I suppose you won’t ever experience that part,” he said, grinning sheepishly, and Ron chuckled despite himself. “But the other way’s good, too,” Harry continued. “When you’re the one in charge, and it’s up to you to make sure your partner enjoys it and when they do and they look at you and suddenly you’re the only two people in the entire world and nothing else matters…” He trailed off, eyes glazing over, and when he spoke again it was like he’d forgotten Ron was even there. “And for that moment, even if it’s actually only a few seconds, it seems like it goes on for hours and you wish that it _could_ be hours…that it would never end and you could just stay there, like that, with him and no one else…just _being_ together. And it does feel amazing, you’ve never felt anything so exhilarating…so _intense_ …”

“…Wow,” Ron said softly and Harry blinked, coming back to himself and looking around at Ron.

“It can’t just be physical,” he said suddenly. “There’s no way… I was there when it _was_ physical. The first time, when I couldn’t have cared less if he enjoyed it or not, because I was too caught up in how it felt for _me_. I didn’t even realize it was horrible for him until it was all over. And he’s always been careful with me. Just because we like doing it and we do it often doesn’t mean that sex is all our relationship is about!”

“You want to have your epiphanies a little louder next time, Harry?” someone said, and suddenly Harry’s bed curtains were shoved apart and Seamus poked his head through. “I don’t think the girls’ side of the dormitories heard you.”

“Sorry,” Harry said, startled. “I was that loud?”

“Oh yes,” Seamus replied. “What’s all this, then? Ah, I know.” He grinned. “Is Ron doing the typical best friend I’m-curious-about-gay-sex-now thing?” Ron scowled, blushing a little, and Harry snickered.

“Actually no,” he answered. “It was more just an I’m-curious-about- _any_ -type-of-sex thing.”

“Harry!” Ron exclaimed, but Seamus nodded sagely, clearly trying not to grin.

“Of course, of course,” he said, sounding a bit like Ernie Macmillan. “Dean did the same thing after all. Course he’s got Ginny now,” he added impishly, “so I’m sure he’s since figured things out.”

“I’ll kill him,” Ron said at once. “What do you mean he’s _figured things out_? He’d better not have figured _anything_ out!”

“Ron! No, really, _Ron_ ,” Seamus said, trying to grab hold of Ron’s shoulders to keep him from going searching for Dean. “Ron, I was _joking_. Harry, you’re not helping!” he said to the other boy, who was laughing loudly at the look on Ron’s face.

“I’ll let you deal with him,” Harry said, still chuckling, and he slid off the bed and opened his trunk. Grabbing his cloak and a familiar piece of parchment, he headed out of the dorms and didn’t pause until he was standing in the quiet corridor outside of the Gryffindor common room. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good,” he said softly, pointing his wand at the parchment, and then he watched as the detailed map of Hogwarts appeared on its surface. “Now,” Harry said, stuffing his wand into the back of his jeans, “where are you, Draco?”

* * *

Even though he’d used it an innumerable amount of times, Harry would never stop being amazed at how very detailed the Marauder’s Map was. He was especially thankful for it now, because he hadn’t been to the Prefects’ bathroom since before winter break, and the password had apparently changed somewhere along the line. After speaking the word that popped up in the bubble that appeared by the little dot labeled _Harry Potter_ , Harry entered the spacious bathroom knowing that Draco was the only person inside.

The bathtub was already filled to the brim, a variety of foam and bubbles floating gently atop the water’s surface. Draco was nowhere to be seen, but Harry wasn’t worried about that at the moment. He dropped his cloak and toed off his shoes, leaving them, along with his socks, wand, and the map, in a pile by the door, and crept silently over to the pool’s edge.

He was still standing there, peering down into the water, when Draco broke through the surface a couple feet away. Harry blinked, watching as Draco tilted his head back and pushed his hair back from his face. Tiny rivulets ran down his shoulders and gleamed off his pale skin, and Harry’s eyes widened a bit as his jaw went slack-

“Harry!” Blinking again, Harry’s mouth snapped shut with a click, and he grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he said unabashedly as Draco scowled and ducked down in the water. Harry laughed. “Are you _hiding_ from me?” he asked, still chuckling. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking a bath!” Draco snapped, and Harry couldn’t tell if the flush in his cheeks was from the humidity in the air or because he was embarrassed. “What are _you_ doing?”

“Watching you take a bath,” Harry answered simply. “Problem?” Draco frowned, slowly straightening up again.

“Well, no…” He jerked suddenly, looking at Harry. “Are you supposed to be wandering about? How’s your head?” he asked quickly.

“Fine, fine,” Harry replied, waving him off. “I told you Madame Pomfrey healed me right away.”

“So why are you here then?” Draco asked, wading over towards where Harry was standing. He looked up at him. Harry smiled.

“Just wanted to see you.”

“Ahh.” Draco smirked. “Enjoying the view?”

“Oh yes,” Harry nodded, “quite.”

“You’re not supposed to be in here, you know,” Draco said slyly, quirking as eyebrow at his boyfriend. “I should give you detention.”

Harry ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “Don’t want to punish me yourself?” he quipped. Draco snorted.

“Why are you still fully clothed?”

“Haven’t had a chance to get undressed yet.”

“Well hurry it up, then,” Draco said impatiently.

“Eager, much?” Harry said, but he was grinning as pulled his shirt off over his head. The movement left his hair tousled and glasses askew, and Draco snickered at him. “No one else is in here?”

“Would it be a problem if someone was? We’re only taking a bath, aren’t we?” Draco asked, feigning innocence as he absently trailed his fingers through the water.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “If you want,” he said airily.

Draco smirked. “It’s not usually crowded this early on a Friday night,” he said, answering Harry’s question. “It’s likely we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“Oh good,” Harry said, and he unsnapped the button on his trousers and let them fall around his feet. Draco stared at him blankly for a few seconds.

“That’s the most hideous pair of underwear I’ve ever seen,” he said faintly, staring at the garish orange of Harry’s boxers. “Are those _snitches_? I wasn’t aware they made boxers like that for anyone over the age of _nine_.” Harry blushed slightly.

“Christmas present from Fred and George,” he mumbled, hooking his thumbs under the elastic band. “A joke, of course.”

“Of course,” Draco repeated. “I don’t ever want to see them again.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Right. And I shall of course obey your every whim.”

“Right you shall,” Draco said, lifting his chin a bit as a grin worked its way onto his face. 

Of course it was at that point, because unfortunately this was the type of luck Harry had been blessed with outside of near-death situations, that the bathroom door creaked open and a regrettably very familiar voice shrieked, “Harry!” Harry spun around, wide-eyed, as Draco squawked and submerged himself in the nearly-clear bath water.

“H-Hermione!” Harry spluttered, quickly yanking his jeans back up as high as they would go around his waist.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed again, clutching her bath robe tightly around her body as she stared at her friend in shock.

“ _Granger_ ,” Draco growled, pressing his body flush against the side of the bath and quickly turning on the first faucet his hand found. Thick blue foam poured out around him.

“Malfoy?” Hermione asked incredulously, blinking and turning to the other boy.

“ _Draco_ ,” Harry reminded her needlessly.

“Draco,” Hermione corrected herself quickly, nodding and rolling her eyes a bit.

“ _Harry!_ ” Draco said urgently, ducking again so that only his face was visible above the soap suds.

“Er…” Harry said helpfully, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “Harry, what are you doing in here? Well, actually, I guess I needn’t ask.” She quirked her eyebrow at Draco, who went slightly pink and lowered himself yet further into the bubbles so that only his eyes could be seen.

“Um, Hermione, why are you here?” Harry asked nervously, still clutching his jeans tightly.

“To take a bath, of course,” his friend replied. “Though I suppose I’ll have to make do with a shower now.” She grinned and turned to go through a different door, calling over her shoulder, “And I can’t believe you’re wearing those boxers, Harry. Didn’t I tell you and Ron they were awful?” Draco shot Harry an accusatory look.

“She’s seen them before?” he hissed. Harry rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Well, she did stay at the Weasleys over break, you know.”

“Right,” Draco said doubtfully. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Where did she go?” he asked, not entirely familiar with the layout of the Prefects’ bathroom aside from the bath itself.

“The shower room’s back that way,” Draco replied. “Now would you hurry up? I’m getting all wrinkly.” He held up his hands to examine them properly, scowling a bit.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Harry murmured. He threw another look over his shoulder, and then swiftly removed his jeans and boxers and jumped into the bath in one fluid motion. Draco snickered.

“Nice,” he said.

“Shut up,” Harry muttered, blushing. Then suddenly his arms were full of gloriously wet and naked Draco and his back was up against the edge of the bath and grey eyes were very close to his own.

“Make me,” Draco whispered, and Harry went about doing that, kissing Draco softly at first, and then more firmly as he ran his tongue across the other boy’s bottom lip. Draco opened up eagerly for him and the kiss deepened.

And then the bathroom door opened again and Harry and Draco reluctantly parted, though they didn’t release their hold on one another because, frankly, they were too caught up in the moment to give a damn if anyone saw them together.

“Oh, really now. Of all the places- Need I remind you that you’re not even a Prefect, Potter?” Harry groaned and Draco scowled at someone behind Harry.

“Do shut up, Pansy,” he said irritably. “Harry and I will do whatever we like, wherever we like. We don’t need your permission.”

“Yes, obviously,” Pansy grinned, shaking her short hair out of her eyes. Footsteps echoed throughout the bathroom and Harry turned around in time to see Hermione reappear, her hair pinned up above her neck and nothing but a towel wrapped around her body.

“Harry, I meant to ask you if something was bothering Ron. He’s been acting funny all day and he’s barely said a word to me- Oh!” She paused mid-stride, grinning. “Pansy! Come to join the party?”

“Evening, Hermione,” Pansy said, smiling easily. “And actually, speaking of parties, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“Well you can do it away from here,” Draco said grumpily, reaching for the faucet and making sure there was an ample amount of foam surrounding himself and Harry. “We were a bit occupied before you two decided to ruin our night. Although,” he laughed shortly, “I suppose you’ve made it a habit to invade Harry’s and my personal lives.” Harry chuckled.

“All we need now is for Moaning Myrtle to pop up as well,” he said absently, slipping his hands beneath the water and pulling Draco hips close to his own, unseen by Pansy and Hermione. Draco blinked, cheeks going pink, and breathed in slowly.

“Does she do that?” he asked, carefully avoiding Harry’s eyes as the boy slid his hands up Draco’s thighs. He grasped the edge of the bath behind Harry when one of those hands curled loosely around his cock.

“She spied on me in fourth year,” Harry replied. He tilted his head back to look at the bathroom’s other occupants, appearing for all intents and purposes as if it were perfectly normal for him to be not only bathing in front of one of his best friends, but giving his boyfriend a handjob right under her nose. “You were saying, Pansy?” He tightened his fist around Draco, and the boy’s chest jerked as he fought to control his breathing.

“Oh, right. Well, I was thinking-”

“Surprise, surprise,” Draco muttered, leaning so close against Harry that he was practically resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder.

“-I was _thinking_ ,” Pansy said again, glaring at Draco, “isn’t it about time to start up the Saturday parties again?” Draco’s eyes widened and Harry paused. They both looked at Pansy incredulously.

“Whatever would we want to do _that_ for?” Draco asked, but Hermione was grinning widely.

“I was thinking the same thing!” she exclaimed. “A lot of people have been asking about it. Hannah Abbot came up to me just today and was wondering if we had anything planned for tomorrow night.”

“ _Tomorrow?_ ” Harry asked, startled. “There’s no way you can get something planned that quickly.”

“Of course we can,” Pansy said. She eyed the two boys. “Do you have something against this?”

“Well… I mean, _why_ , for one,” Harry said. “What’s the point?”

“The point?” Pansy reiterated. Her brow furrowed, and then a look of realization crossed her face. “Ooohh. I see. You both think that just because you’re finally together, it means there no reason for the rest of us to have a good time, is that it?”

“Well if having a good time means at _our_ expense, then yes!” Draco said. Harry smiled at him and began moving his hand again, pulling at Draco’s cock in long, languid strokes. Draco shuddered once against him, eyes squeezing shut, and then he forced himself to look at Pansy again. “You can…you can find someone else to exploit…this time around,” he said, gasping slightly. Pansy looked at them for a few more seconds, and then she burst out laughing.

“You’re serious?” she gasped through her laugher. “You think… Oh, wow. Talk about your oversized egos.” Harry blinked, and glanced at Hermione questioningly. She shrugged, grinning.

“You didn’t honestly think we’d still keep daring you two to do stuff, did you?” she asked. “You might have noticed it sort of died down. You both took things into your own hands and frankly, it was getting old.” Draco looked vaguely insulted by that, so Harry distracted him some more by quickening the motions of his hand. Draco’s jaw clenched shut as he tried not to groan aloud. Harry felt the muscles in his thighs tighten against him.

“And besides,” Pansy added, “It was scaring a lot of people off. How raunchy we were getting…” She snickered, and Hermione blushed a bit.

“No more truth or dare then?” Harry asked. Pansy shrugged.

“Well I don’t see why not. Just…maybe not to the same degree. And if we keep using the Room of Requirement, we’ll be able keep the music and the big room and people will be able to split up and do whatever they want.”

“It’s just an excuse for everyone to get together, really,” Hermione said. “And you remember what the sorting hat said-”

“Yeah, yeah, house unity,” Harry interrupted. “I get it.”

“I wonder if I should make Blaise try to get a hold of some firewhiskey,” Pansy mused. “Or maybe some mead this time.”

“H- _Harry_ ,” Draco whined quietly, practically flattening Harry against the side of the bath now. Harry grinned and ignored him, but kept his hand moving.

“I’m sure Seamus will let us use some of his stash,” he said, warming up to the idea.

“Will that be a bit much for the first party?” Hermione asked. Pansy shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she said, and then added softly, “I think people will be looking for an excuse to get smashed, what with what’s been happening…” Hermione nodded, and the bathroom fell silent for a few seconds, save for the quickening gasps of breath coming from Draco.

Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Draco, are you quite alright?”

Draco groaned without meaning to, biting his lip, and avoided looking at anyone. His cheeks were bright pink. Pansy and Hermione seemed to realize at the same time what was happening.

“ _Harry!_ ” squeaked Hermione at the same time Pansy burst out with an exasperated, “Potter! Merlin, you could at least wait until we’re out of the room!”

“Harry, if I were Ron, would you still be doing that?” Hermione asked in annoyance, propping her fists up on her waist.

Harry grinned unabashedly at her. “If you were Ron you wouldn’t be standing there watching us bathe together. You’d have turned tail and run away a long while ago.”

“Touché,” Pansy murmured, smirking. “Alright then, we’ll leave. Come on Hermione.” The two girls left for the showers, shaking their heads and muttering to one another. They’d barely disappeared through the doors before Draco grabbed Harry’s face and kissed him fiercely, thrusting freely into his hand for merely a few seconds before coming with a muffled moan against Harry’s mouth.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed as he pulled back and wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders. “Payback for the…for the Potions incident…I assume?” Draco asked, panting. Harry’s eyebrows rose.

“Already got you for that one,” he reminded him. “Just can’t keep my hands off you, is all.”

“Apparently not,” Draco murmured. “Though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same. Hop up,” he ordered, patting the side of the bath behind Harry.

“What?”

“Sit on the ledge.”

“But…” Harry glanced worriedly over his shoulder toward the shower room. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Just do it.”

“I don’t-”

“ _Do it_.”

“But, I-”

“ _Harry_ ,” Draco said warningly. Harry sighed.

“Fine,” he muttered, and with a final backwards glance, he pushed himself up to the ledge. Draco descended on him before Harry could properly right himself out, and he gasped and fell forward, clutching Draco’s shoulders as Draco ran his tongue along the underside of Harry’s cock. His eyes widened. Draco grinned and swallowed him completely, sucking lightly as he pulled back.

“Oh God,” Harry gasped, and then immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. “Fuck,” he continued, voice muffled now as his eyes squeezed shut as well. “ _Draco_.” Draco hummed low in his throat as he moved and Harry jerked, panting, and tried to hold any sounds that threatened to escape him at bay. Then Draco’s hand came up and gently wrapped around his balls, and Harry groaned loudly. “Draco,” he hissed again. “Don’t… _nggh_ …ahh….f-fuck…” Draco’s eyes widened innocently and he tightened his grip. Harry’s back arched and his head fell back as he sucked in a breath.

“For the love of Merlin!” Pansy’s annoyed voice yelled from the other room, echoing off the walls. “Would you at least put up a fucking silencing charm?!” Draco chuckled around Harry’s cock, and Harry swore under his breath.

“S-sorry!” he tried to say, but his voice cracked partway through the apology. Then Draco sucked again, his teeth barely grazing Harry’s skin, and Harry caved. Nearly shoving his entire fist into his mouth, he came hard down Draco’s throat, stifling his moans as much as he possibly could. Draco pulled away with a smug look on his face.

“There you go,” he said, smirking. “We’re even again.” Harry panted, looking at him through fringe that fell damply into his eyes.

“Arse,” he muttered.

“Prat,” Draco returned, smirking. “I’d get back in the water before Granger decides to interrupt us again or something.” Harry nodded, lazily sliding off the edge of the bath. Then he pulled Draco towards him and kissed him softly, and Draco grinned against his lips.

They were still wrapped around each other when Pansy and Hermione left the bathroom a little while later.

* * *

The Room of Requirement looked much the same as it had the night of their last party, except the long tables full of food were absent. Various cushions and chairs took their place, and when Harry saw the amount of sixth year students occupying them, he began to realize just how important these parties had become. It was such a relief for them to have at least one night a week where they could pretend Voldemort wasn’t wreaking havoc on the world, both wizard and muggle alike. Faces that had been etched with worry and fear were smiling carelessly, laughing… People were dancing, getting lost in the music, lost in a place where, for just a moment, death wasn’t looming around the corner.

Harry sipped thoughtfully on the drink Draco had just handed to him, and then gagged. “What-what the hell did you give me?” he spluttered, wiping his mouth absently.

“Mead,” Draco shrugged, drinking his own. “It’s a party, Potter. A time for joy and happiness and celebration and all that rot. Cheers,” he said flatly.

“I thought Pansy said the alcohol was only for the games,” Harry said, ignoring Draco’s bored look.

“Yeah, well,” Draco grinned suddenly, “Our good friend Seamus lent us some.”

“ _Our_ good friend?” Harry asked, eying Draco suspiciously. Draco shrugged.

“I believe he might be a tad drunk already,” he said dryly, gesturing off to the side. Harry glanced around and saw Seamus hanging all over Justin Finch-Fletchley, who looked amused. “He’s happily pouring drinks for…ahh…anyone who’s queer and here and desperately wants a beer,” Draco continued, adding an Irish twang to his words. Harry nearly snorted his mead up his nose.

“H-he s-s-said that, did he?” he coughed, laughing. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Got us free alcohol, in any case. Cheers,” he said again in a more cheerful tone, and he and Harry clinked glasses.

“Oy, Draco!” someone called, and Blaise was suddenly standing in front of them. “Pansy sent me around to find out who all’s interested in playing I’ve Never,” he said. “You two up for it? I want to get started already, I’m dying for a drink. I-…hang on…” Blaise peered closely at Draco’s glass. “Where’d you get that?” he demanded. “I’ve been trying to bully Crabbe and Goyle into stealing me one of the bottles, but they don’t listen to me like they used to listen to you…” Draco smirked and tipped his head in Seamus’ direction.

“Finnigan,” he replied. “But don’t try asking him for any. He’s demanding a snog for every glass.”

“What?!” Harry snapped his head around to stare at Draco. “You didn’t tell me that!” Draco rolled his eyes.

“A snog from anyone who he isn’t sure is actually gay,” he amended. Blaise chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip, looking longingly at Harry and Draco’s drinks. “Oh, come off it!” Draco smirked. “You’ll have your own soon enough. We’re playing now, aren’t we?”

“Oh…oh, right.” Blaise nodded. “Of course. Right. Come on, then. Let’s play. Right now. We need to start.” Harry chuckled, and he and Draco followed Blaise over to another corner of the room.

“Harry!” Seamus exclaimed as they approached, and he flung himself at his friend. “Harry! Do you want some mead? I’ve got a whole bottle to myself, but don’t tell anyone!” he said loudly, so of course everyone in the nearby vicinity heard anyway. “Everyone’s trying to steal it. Only those who fancy boys though, I said. No one else!”

“Well I fancy boys,” said Daphne Greengrass, who was lounging on a cushion a few feet away. Seamus eyed her in confusion.

“No, I…Um…Boys. _Boys_ who fancy boys,” he corrected himself, stumbling over the words. He turned back to Harry, abruptly forgetting the interruption. “And Ron tried to get a free drink because he’s a Gryffindor and he thought that was a good enough reason, but I told him, I told him _no_. I said I was pretty positive he fancied Hermione and not boys and he would have to prove it if he wanted a drink.” Harry was listening in amusement, and he glanced around trying to find Ron. The boy was sitting across the circle, scowling at nothing in particular.

“And what did he say to that?” Harry asked indulgently, grinning.

“Well he wanted to know how he should prove it, obviously,” Seamus continued eagerly, as if this was the latest gossip he’d heard down at the pub or something. “And I told him I would have to snog him and then I tried to, but he didn’t like that very much. Shied away before I could catch him, you know. Then he got all in a huff and demanded to know why I’d given some to Dean.”

“And why did you?”

“Such a _riveting_ story,” Draco muttered sarcastically. Harry absently pinched his arm. Draco slapped his hand away.

“Well because I _snogged_ him, of course!” said Seamus obliviously. Harry’s eyes went wide and Draco snorted.

“Dean’s going out with Ginny, though,” Harry pointed out. Seamus shrugged.

“Funny, Ron said the same thing. With a bit more swearing. I told him it didn’t mean anything. I snog everyone, you know.” Then, as if to prove his point, Seamus lunged forward and planted a kiss sloppily on Harry’s lips. Half a second later, Seamus was stumbling backwards and Draco was standing between he and Harry, arm still outstretched from where he’d pushed him away.

“I don’t think so, Finnigan,” he practically growled. “Unless some _very stupid_ person dares you to, you will _not_ be snogging Harry.” Harry laughed and wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist.

“My hero,” he quipped, and then glanced at his fellow Gryffindor. “Sorry, Seamus.” Seamus grinned and waved him off.

“S’fine, s’fine,” he said happily.

“I’ll snog you, Finnigan!” Blaise said, somewhat desperately. Seamus beamed.

“No need for that, Blaise,” said Pansy, as she finally appeared with various bottles in her arms. “We’re starting now.”

* * *

The game progressed smoothly, its players indulging themselves with various inane admissions and drinking themselves silly. By the time they’d gone through three rounds, everyone playing was feeling happily buzzed, and they graduated onto Truth or Dare. More people from the dance floor joined, and soon they had a fairly large group of sixth years playing.

Harry and Draco had somehow separated themselves from the group a bit; they were sitting farther back from the circle, leaning against one of the walls. Draco had just downed what remained of his mead (they’d switched to Firewhiskey shots for I’ve Never), and he let out a contented sigh once he was done. Harry’s hand was resting on his knee, absently stroking back and forth, and Draco followed its movement with his eyes before abruptly shoving it away.

“What-?” Harry started to say, but Draco was shifting around and suddenly Harry found himself with a lapful of Draco’s head, since apparently the boy had decided to use it as a pillow. Draco moved Harry’s hand to his head.

“Stroke,” he commanded, eyes sliding shut.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not difficult, really.”

“No, I know, but-”

“Pansy does it sometimes, you want me to go back to her?” Harry rolled his eyes, and set about running his fingers gently through Draco’s hair.

“Like that?” he asked. Draco murmured contentedly, and Harry chuckled. “You’re like a giant cat,” he said.

“Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.”

“No need to tell, everyone’s already watching us.”

“Oh. Well, sod them.”

“Thought you’d say that.”

“Know me that well, do you?” Draco smirked. He reached up before Harry could answer, and pulled the boy down into a sloppy, openmouthed kiss.

“Hey, Malfoy!” Draco pulled back, eyes opening in annoyance, and turned his head in Harry’s lap so that he was facing the rest of the group.

“Yes?” he asked Zacharias Smith irritably.

“Truth or dare?”

“Oh.” Draco paused, considering. “Truth, I suppose.” He was too comfortable to have to move around at the moment to do a dare. Harry’s hand was still stroking his hair.

“Because Justin’s curious and too embarrassed to ask you himself,” Zacharias drawled, “what do you like better: topping or bottoming?”

“Bottoming,” Draco replied promptly, and then quickly slapped a hand over his mouth. “Bollocks,” he mumbled as Harry broke out in laughter.

“I knew it,” Harry said, grinning. Draco glared at him.

“Truth or dare, Harry?” he snapped.

“Truth,” Harry replied, still grinning.

“Which do _you_ prefer?” Harry opened his mouth to reply…but nothing came out.

“Er…” he said instead. Then he laughed again, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I told you I liked both, didn’t I? Guess I can’t choose…”

“Figures,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. Harry ignored him and looked around the circle.

“Ron,” he called, spotting his friend sitting with Neville and, of all people, Pansy. “Truth or dare?” Ron eyed him suspiciously.

“I’ll say dare, but only because I trust you, Harry,” he said. Harry smiled widely.

“I dare you to snog Hermione,” he said, finding his other friend who was sitting with some of the Ravenclaw girls. She looked at him, wide-eyed.

“How utterly predictable,” Draco quipped. “Have at it then, Weasel. Go crazy.”

“For…for h-how long?” Ron asked nervously, ignoring Draco and looking back and forth between Harry and Hermione.

“As long as you want, Ron,” Harry said cheerfully.

“Yes, and Harry and I will join you,” Draco drawled, and then he pulled Harry back down to meet him as Ron crawled across the circle to an anxious looking Hermione. “Harry,” Draco whispered against Harry’s lips and meeting his eyes.

“Draco?” Harry asked curiously.

“Harry, can I…can I stay with you tonight?”

Harry sucked in a breath, eyes going wide. “You’re not asking because you’re drunk, are you?” he asked faintly. “Because that’s what happened last time…” Draco shook his head.

“M’not drunk, just comfortably buzzed and perfectly capable of thinking rationally,” he said. Harry stared at him for a few more seconds, and then he beamed.

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “Yes, yes, you can _definitely_ sleep with me. Stay in my room. Whatever.” Draco snickered.

“ _Just_ sleep though, alright? For now.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, whatever you want,” he said excitedly.

“What if I want to go now?” Draco asked, a yawn puncturing the sentence. “I’m tired.” It was contagious, and Harry found himself yawning too. Most of the room had cleared out already, aside from the large group that was playing Truth or Dare.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “Let’s go now.”

* * *

Sleeping in Harry’s room was a lot easier than Draco had thought it would be, but perhaps that was just the alcohol speaking.

Of course he wasn’t sure _why_ he’d thought it would be difficult in the first place…

Maybe it was because they were the only two in the room when they crawled into Harry’s bed. Possibly it was because the closed curtains gave them an ample amount of privacy. Perhaps it _was_ the mead, making him feel lazy and drowsy and happy to fall asleep just about anywhere.

But mostly he figured it was because he’d never been as comfortable, not even in his own king-sized bed back at Malfoy manor, as he was when Harry’s arm wrapped around his waist and the bare skin of his chest pressed warmly against Draco’s naked back.

Draco awoke rather abruptly at some point during the night, and it took him a few seconds to remember where he was. It took a few more seconds for him to realize that Harry’s presence against his back was gone, and that someone was moving around rather restlessly beneath the sheets beside him.

Rolling over, Draco tried to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. Too impatient to wait that long, he leaned over and grabbed his wand off of Harry’s bedside table.

“ _Lumos_ ,” he muttered quietly, blinking in the sudden light. Then he looked down at his bed partner.

Harry was pale beneath the soft glow of Draco’s wand. His forehead looked damp and his hair was sticking to it, and there was a light sheen on his sweat-slicked chest. His hands clenched the sheets tightly in their grip, and half of the covers were twisted around his fretfully kicking legs. But the look on Harry’s face was what shot through Draco like a jolt, causing him to nearly drop his wand. He fumbled with it for a few seconds, Harry’s gasping breaths roaring in his ears, and as soon as he had it in a solid grip in one hand, he immediately began shaking Harry with his other.

“Harry!” he whispered harshly, shaking the boy’s shoulder. Harry’s eyes squeezed even more tightly shut and his face screwed up against the light of Draco’s wand. “Harry, wake up! Come on, wake up wake up wake up!” Draco pleaded, shaking Harry again. “ _Harry_.”

Harry’s eyes shot open suddenly and he gasped, panting, his chest heaving quickly. Draco kept his hand on Harry’s shoulder, watching worriedly as Harry slowly calmed down and took in his surroundings.

“D…Draco?” he asked in a small voice.

“I’m right here,” Draco replied quickly. Harry’s eyes focused blearily on him, as he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“You woke me up,” Harry said, blinking. Draco flushed a little under his gaze and slowly lay back down on his pillow.

“I…yeah. Yeah. Sorry- should I not have?” he asked, feeling nervous for no apparent reason.

“No,” Harry reached for Draco and curled his body around him, clutching at his arms with slightly shaking hands. “No, I’m glad you did. I don’t… I mean, it’s not their fault, but-but the others don’t know unless I fall out of bed or something. So…so I usually have to wake myself up. Or just…stay there…”

“Stay…where?” Draco asked apprehensively. Harry was quiet for a long moment before he answered.

“Voldemort’s mind,” he whispered finally. Draco stiffened. “It actually hasn’t happened as often this year as it did last year,” Harry continued. “I imagine now that he’s realized I’m there, he can easily keep me out. But sometimes I think he _wants_ me to see things…” He sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. Draco watched him, noticing the movement for what it really was now.

“Scar bothering you?” he asked. Harry nodded.

“A little. S’not bad.”

“What happened tonight?”

Harry sighed. “I imagine there’ll be a big report in the Daily Prophet tomorrow,” he murmured. Draco sighed as well, feeling confused. He idly traced his fingers along Harry’s back. “Thank you for waking me up,” Harry repeated, words slurring slightly as he began to fall asleep again.

“You’re welcome,” Draco answered softly, but he was fairly certain his words had gone unheard, as Harry was already snoring lightly again.

* * *

And so the weeks passed. The war raged on outside, and the Daily Prophet brought continuous stories of death and murder, but inside Hogwarts life remained very much the same. Classes continued, as did Quidditch practices, though the latter was now supervised by at least three teachers at a time. The sixth years continued having their parties, as the Room of Requirement became the one place where they could escape from reality every Saturday. And Draco continued sleeping in Harry’s room.

It wasn’t something that happened every night, or rarely even every other night. Usually on the weekends, or perhaps the night after a particularly bad attack, Draco and Harry would curl up together in one of their beds, because Harry had taken to visiting the Slytherin dorms now as well. That was a little bit more of a hassle than Draco coming to Gryffindor, mainly because Goyle put up such a fuss about it and had threatened to inform Professor Snape on several occasions.

On the first Friday of March, a night that Draco was spending in Gryffindor tower, Harry awoke so abruptly that he’d managed to sit up in bed and grab his wand in a defensive motion before he’d really even realized that he was awake.

“Harry?” Draco croaked from beside him, rolling over to peer tiredly up at him. “Nightmare again?” Harry didn’t answer. He was still trying to calm his breathing, and he was frantically trying to remember what he had just seen. It was something important, very important, he knew it… “Harry?” Draco asked again, sounding worried now as he sat up as well.

“Something happened,” Harry said bluntly, staring hard into the darkness around him.

“What do you mean?”

“Voldemort. He…he…I don’t know. Something. Something big. Someone I-” Harry’s eyes went wide. “Someone I knew? Maybe. Or I recognized who it was. Or something.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Draco said worriedly. His brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you _knew_ them?”

“I don’t know if I did,” Harry answered absently. “I think I’d...seen them before. But never really talked to them… But that’s not- I mean, something huge has happened. But I can’t _remember!_ ” Growling in frustration, Harry dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Damn it!” Draco frowned. Harry rarely got this worked up over one of his trips into the Dark Lord’s mind. “It was bad,” Harry continued. “Really bad.”

“Well there’s not much you can do about it,” Draco said. He fell back against the mattress and rolled over so that his back was facing Harry. “Might as well go back to sleep.”

“No- Draco, I’m serious. This…it’s not good…”

“And I reiterate, there’s nothing you can do about it,” Draco snapped. Harry moved his hands from his eyes and stared down at Draco.

“How can you be so…so _blasé_ about it?” he asked, annoyed. Draco rolled his eyes and yanked the covers up to his chin.

“It’s called being realistic,” he muttered angrily. “What are you going to do, apparate to the Dark Lord now and fight him in your pajamas?”

“You can’t apparate inside Hogwarts.”

“Oooh, someone’s read ‘Hogwarts, A History,’ apparently,” Draco quipped sarcastically.

“Yeah, Hermione,” Harry mumbled. He sighed, laying down so he was facing away from Draco. They were both silent for a few minutes as Draco tried several times to open his mouth and talk. But the words weren’t coming to him, and he was sure Harry must be asleep by now…

“Harry?” he asked softly, nonetheless.

“What?” Harry replied gruffly. Draco blinked, startled that he was actually awake, and paused.

“Um…” he started to say. “I was…I was thinking…”

“Good job.”

“You know, I do believe I’m starting to rub off on you.”

“Shame, that.” Harry sighed and rolled over to face Draco’s back. Draco made no move to do the same. “What is it?”

“I, uh…I wrote my mother last week,” Draco said softly. He heard Harry breathing deeply behind him.

“What about?” he asked. Draco shrugged. “Did you tell her about us?”

“No, not yet,” Draco murmured. “Next letter, maybe. I told her…I told her that…” He paused, fidgeting with the covers, and then blurted out, “I told her that I wasn’t going to side with the Dark Lord.” Harry was silent, and Draco was sure he’d really fallen asleep this time. “Harry?” he asked tentatively.

“What did you just say?” Harry asked quietly. Draco swallowed, rolling over to face him.

“I told her I wasn’t going to side with…with _him_. I said I would refuse to take his mark should anyone ever try to make me. I said I’d…I’d part ways with my father, if it came to that. I said I’d go with the other side… _your_ side.” Harry was breathing quickly, his eyes wide. Draco met them evenly. “So you’d better damn well win, understand? Don’t…don’t make me regret choosing-”

“ _Why?_ ” Harry whispered urgently, interrupting him. “What-…I don’t… _why?_ ” Draco’s eyes slid shut.

“Do you know how many people he’s killed since the Ministry declared us at war?” he asked softly.

“I…no… Is someone keeping track?”

“Yeah,” Draco said. “Me.” Harry sucked in a breath.

“Oh…”

“Thirty-eight muggleborn witches and wizards. Thirty-one half-bloods. Twenty-four purebloods.” He paused. “Sixty-seven muggles. You know, family members of the muggleborns and half-bloods and such. Nineteen of them had no association with the wizarding world at all, though.” Draco’s voice dropped as he continued in an even quieter tone. “Twenty-one of those killed have been under the age of eleven. Nine of those were from wizarding families of some sort of another. There’s been two pregnant women…”

Draco sighed, looking up at Harry again. “I want nothing to do with that,” he said. “I might be proud to be a pureblood, and believe me, I _am_ …and I’ll always think that marrying muggles only pollutes the bloodlines… But all this killing without…without _reason_. Killing purebloods just because they support muggle rights. I hate to say it, but the Weasleys are one of the most prominent pureblood families, and to…to kill them off just because they associate with the likes of Granger… Merlin, there’ll be no one left! We’ll all be marrying our first cousins!” Despite the seriousness of the situation, Harry chuckled.

“Can’t have that, can we?” he said hoarsely, grinning widely. “Draco…you’re serious?” Draco stared at him silently for a moment.

“Absolutely,” he whispered. Harry laughed again, more from shock and relief than anything else, and he lunged forward, capturing Draco’s mouth with his own and plundering it deeply. It was a kiss that tore Draco apart and put him back together again, all at once. He felt lost to it at the same time as he felt like he was returning from a long journey to home and safety. Heat seared through him and flared in his belly, and by the time Harry pulled away Draco’s skin was flushed and his heart was pounding and he couldn’t have possibly been any less tired than if he’d had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over his head. And somehow he’d ended up on top of Harry.

“Why, Draco…” Harry said in amusement, staring somewhere in the vicinity of Draco’s crotch. He brought a hand up and lightly traced the bulge in Draco’s tenting pajama bottoms, and Draco shivered, wondering how he’d gotten that aroused without even realizing it. His toes curled as Harry rubbed gently now, and he stared blearily down as Harry stared, wide-eyed and grinning, back up at him. “Do you want to…?”

Draco didn’t answer right away. They still hadn’t ever actually had sex in Harry’s bed. They’d done it down in Slytherin a few times, while skipping class or meals and such, but still not in Gryffindor, though Draco didn’t know why. Harry just hadn’t ever asked again, but if he had, Draco was pretty sure he would have said yes.

Because he was going to now.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding rapidly. “Yes, of course. You can’t…you can’t kiss me like _that_ and then expect me to just…just bugger off and go to sleep!” Harry grinned and immediately began tugging at Draco’s pajama bottoms. A few minutes of awkward shifting about later, and they were back in the same position, only without any annoying clothes in the way.

“Am I topping then?” Draco asked, leaning down and kissing Harry.

“No.” Harry murmured a quick spell that he and Draco had come to be particularly fond of, and suddenly lube-coated fingers were tracing Draco’s entrance. Draco had no problem with that, and he panted as Harry slowly began stretching him out, waiting for Harry to flip them over. It never happened, though. Instead, Draco felt Harry’s hands guiding his hips backwards, and then there was the familiar feel of Harry cock pressing against him.

“What- Like this?” Draco asked, caught off guard. Harry nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, holding his cock in place with one hand. “Just…sit down…” Blinking, Draco went about doing that, slowly easing Harry inside his body. He groaned low in his throat.

“Ok?” Harry asked, gasping, once he was all the way inside.

“Yeah,” Draco said breathlessly, trying to get accustomed to the feel of having Harry _that_ deep inside. His own body weight kept him fully impaled, and he shifted a bit, jolts shooting through him. “God, _fuck_ yeah it’s ok,” he moaned, and then quickly he began moving, setting a pace that Harry eagerly matched.

“You’re…you’re still in-in charge this way…s-see?” Harry panted, hands gripping at Draco’s thighs as he thrust against him.

“Uh-huh,” Draco mumbled, head bowed with his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “W-will we wake your…your roommates up?” he asked, not really giving a fuck at the moment but figuring it would be an embarrassing situation if they did.

“Oh…fuck…you’re right,” Harry said. Grabbing the first wand he could find (it happened to be Draco’s), Harry gave it a flick. “ _Silencio!_ ” he gasped, and then dropped the wand somewhere amongst the blankets and settled his hands on Draco’s waist to pull him even closer. “Lean back,” he ordered, and Draco did so, locking his legs behind Harry’s lower back and resting back on his hands. His back arched and when Harry pounded against that glorious spot inside of him, he threw his head back, nearly screaming in pleasure.

“Oh God!” he cried, eyes wide and unseeing as he concentrated on the amazing shocks shooting up his spine.

“Shit. Draco. I’m-… I don’t think I can-…” Harry spoke in between rapid intakes of breath that only increased as his thrusts did, but before he could say much else his thighs tensed and his toes curled and he saw nothing but white flashes as he came inside Draco. 

Harry collapsed, boneless, back against the pillows, but kept thrusting as long as he could. Wrapping a hand around Draco’s cock, he quickly finished him off, watching the curve of Draco’s neck as the boy shuddered in post-orgasmic bliss. They stayed in that kind of awkward position for a few minutes, each trying to catch their breath, and then Draco slowly leaned forward again and fell onto the mattress beside Harry, the other boy’s cock slipping easily from him.

“Fuck. Harry. _Fuck_ ,” Draco said, a dazed smile working its way onto his face. Harry grinned, rolling over to face him. He buried his face into the boy’s neck, wrapping his arms around his sweaty back.

“Thank you, Draco,” he whispered against his skin, squeezing him tightly. Draco’s closed his eyes and returned the embrace.

“I didn’t do it for you, Harry,” he said slowly, resting his forehead against Harry’s. “I need you to understand that. I did it for me; it’s a choice _I_ want to make. And if…if something goes wrong between us…you know, if we don’t work out or whatever…it’s not something I’m going to back out of.” Draco pulled back slightly so that he could meet Harry’s eyes. He took a deep breath. “I’m not going to join Voldemort. _Ever_.”

Blinking rapidly, Harry nodded. He tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come, and in the end he had to settle for hugging Draco a little tighter.

* * *

Hermione was in a decidedly cheerful mood the following morning as she headed down to breakfast. Well, truth be told, she’d been in a decidedly cheerful mood for a few weeks now, ever since Ron had _finally_ gotten a clue. Dating him wasn’t actually all that different from being friends with him, if one didn’t include all the snogging, that is. Hermione considered that part a bonus. A very, very _good_ bonus, mind.

Grinning for no reason whatsoever, she sat herself down at one end of the table and went about buttering some toast. She enjoyed Saturday breakfasts, because it was one of the few times she had just to herself. Never one to sleep in particularly late, Hermione was often one of the only Gryffindors awake this early on the weekend, so she was able to enjoy the peace and quiet of their table in the Great Hall. She had a schedule: first she’d load up her plate with whatever the house elves had cooked up for them. By the time she’d finished doing that, it was usually just in time for the first wave of morning post to arrive, which would bring with it her copy of the Daily Prophet, so she could eat while reading it without enduring endless questions from Ron and mindless prattle about Quidditch from Harry. By the time she’d read all the articles of interest to her, she’d be about halfway done with her food and said boys would be arriving to eat their own share. Thus, she could enjoy the rest of her meal with her two best friends.

Well, with her best friend and one best-friend-turned-boyfriend.

Hermione finished loading her plate and glanced around for the morning post, which should- Ah. There they were. Various owls were swooping in through the windows, and a medium-sized tawny one landed in front of her and stuck out its leg. Hermione cheerfully paid it and watched it fly away, before she turned her attention to the Daily Prophet and opened it in front of her with a flourish.

And just like that, Hermione’s good mood vanished as quickly as if a dementor had swept into the room, the paper falling from her numb fingers and floating down to rest gently on the table before her.


	16. Chapter 16

Hermione was confused. She couldn’t quite focus on the paper in front of her, and instead blinked slowly as her brow furrowed. It really didn’t make sense… Why would he…?

Wondering if anyone else had noticed today’s headline yet, Hermione lifted her head and looked around the Great Hall in a somewhat dazed manner. The Gryffindor table was still fairly empty, and no one at Hufflepuff seemed to care one way or another, as they were all chatting amiably. Some of the Ravenclaws were whispering rapidly to each other and shooting glances out of the corner of their eyes at the Slytherin table.

The Slytherins…

Hermione swung around in her seat. None of the Slytherins seemed to have noticed anything. But then none of the particular Slytherins she was looking for were there yet.

Still moving lackadaisically, as if in a dream, Hermione stood up and headed for the doors. She didn’t realize she had picked up her copy of the Daily Prophet again.

It just wasn’t sinking in. She couldn’t understand what had happened. And where were the professors? Shouldn’t they be doing something about this?

Blinking again, Hermione realized she was standing, frozen, in the middle of the Entrance Hall, and students walking past were giving her odd looks. Feeling helpless, at a loss for what to do, she turned toward the Slytherin dungeons and took half a step in that direction. Then she paused. What good could she do, going down there?

Harry. She could go tell Harry. He would know what to do.

Steeling herself and giving her head a brief shake as if to clear it, Hermione spun around and walked up three steps toward the Gryffindor tower. Then she stopped again. Harry would have no idea what to do. He could barely deal with his own losses, let alone someone else’s. His brief time with Cho had proved that…

“Hermione?”

Hermione turned to acknowledge whomever had spoke, and once she saw who it was, her fist clenched around the paper and she had to lean against the wall to steady herself. “Pansy,” she choked out, and it was only then that she realized her eyes were burning with what would probably turn into tears, and she had no idea why. It wasn’t as if she had personally known who had…had… “Pansy,” Hermione said again, “I’m…I’m so sorry.” Then her legs abruptly gave out on her, and she slid down the wall to sit on one of the steps.

Pansy’s eyes widened, darting to the paper enclosed tightly in Hermione’s hand. She swallowed heavily, taking slow steps toward the other girl. “Who was it?” she asked softly, eyes still focused on the paper. Hermione held it out to her, and Pansy hesitated before taking it. Closing her eyes, Pansy smoothed it out against the wall beside her. With her hand still covering the middle of the paper, she took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and then slowly moved her hand.

“ _No_ ,” she moaned, hand jerking back as if burnt. The paper fell to the floor. “No- But…but I just saw her!” Pansy insisted, staring unblinkingly at the wall. “Just…at Christmas. And-and we’re supposed to be going home for Easter break soon. He was going to tell her. In person. He was going to tell her about-about…” She was drawing in rapid breaths now, chest heaving.

Hermione screwed her eyes shut and rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Pansy, where is he?” she asked quietly. “You can’t let him see this.” Pansy whirled around, searching the Entrance Hall wildly. She walked quickly towards the doors to the Great Hall and stuck her head inside. “He wasn’t in there,” Hermione said, standing shakily and walking towards Pansy.

“Professor Snape’s not there either,” Pansy said, voice choked and on the verge of tears, it sounded like. Hermione looked in also.

“Nor Professor McGonagall. And I don’t see Professor Dumbledore,” she murmured.

“He’s rarely there as it is,” Pansy said, pulling back. She met Hermione’s eyes. “They’ll be looking for Draco.”

“So they’re down in the dungeons,” Hermione nodded. “That’s good, he won’t find out from the paper.”

“He won’t want to find out from them either.” Pansy glanced away, rubbing the heel of her hand across her eyes. She sniffed. “All cold and professional-like.”

“I can’t imagine…” Hermione said. Pansy let out a frustrated sound.

“I just don’t understand it!” she exclaimed, stomping one foot against the ground. “Why would-…why-…just, _why?!_ ” Hermione shrugged helplessly. Pansy looked at her suddenly. “Wait, Hermione…Draco’s not in the dungeons. I remember, because I needed to talk to him about some…Prefect something-or-other, and Blaise said he wasn’t there.”

Hermione blinked, glancing at the staircase beside them. “He’s in Gryffindor then. Professor Snape won’t know that. Should we…?”

“Yes,” Pansy answered promptly. “I think he’d rather hear it from me. Well, he’d rather not hear it at all…” She sniffed again, and then started forward. “And I’d rather I didn’t ever have to tell him.”

Halfway up the stairs, they met Ron coming down with Neville. He grinned widely, rushing towards Hermione and giving her a kiss on the cheek. She smiled weakly back.

“Leaving breakfast so soon?” Ron asked, reaching out to grab her hand. “Come back down and eat with me.”

Hermione hesitated before slowly pulling her hand away. “Pansy needs to talk to Draco,” she said, giving him another watery smile. “You go eat; I’ll come back down in a bit.”

Ron nodded and gave her a mock salute. “Alright, then. See you!” And then he and Neville were off again, and Hermione and Pansy climbed the remaining stairs toward Gryffindor.

It didn’t surprise Hermione when they seemed to walk slower and slower as they got closer to the sixth-year boys’ room. They trudged up the common room stairs and then headed towards the door, which suddenly seemed to loom in the distance like some unattainable goal on the other side of a pathway that would never end. But as much as Hogwarts liked to play tricks on its students and change its corridors to confuse them, the hallway was indeed a set length, and Pansy and Hermione reached the end of it sooner than they would have liked. Hermione tentatively knocked on the door.

“Hang on!” they could hear Seamus’ voice calling from inside, and then the door swung open. Seamus was still pulling his shirt over his head, but he grinned at the two girls. “Come in, come in,” he said cheerfully. “Sorry about the mess. Watch that pile of clothes over there, Dean can’t figure out what to wear today. Bloody girl, he is-”

“Oy!” squawked Dean from where he was kneeling in front of his trunk.

“-Not like anyone will know what he’ll have on anyway, what with these robes, eh? Such an annoyance, always getting in the way… So, what can we do for you?”

“Is Draco in here?” Pansy asked, neatly sidestepping the aforementioned pile and glancing at the unmade beds. Seamus grinned.

“The lovebirds are in there,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder at the one bed whose curtains were still pulled shut. “We think they put up a silencing charm and forgot to take it down, because we haven’t seen hide nor hair of them yet.” Pansy marched over to the bed and yanked apart the curtains, Hermione trailing after her.

It would have made a nice picture, she thought absently. Harry’s face screwed up against the sudden light, and Draco made an incomprehensive sound as he buried his head further against Harry’s chest. Some of his hair was sticking up and it tickled Harry’s chin as he moved, making Harry grunt and squirm away slightly. Then, groaning a little, Harry wearily opened one eye.

“Mornin’ H’mione...” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes and then pushing a hand through his hair. His other arm was wrapped around Draco’s waist beneath the covers.

“I can’t do it,” Pansy said abruptly, turning and plopping down on the bed. It bounced a little beneath her, and Draco made an annoyed sound before slowly blinking his eyes open. “Hermione- _look_ at them! I can’t…I can’t tell him…” Her voice broke and she buried her head in her hands.

“Pansy?” Draco asked, as he and Harry were both rather awake all of a sudden. They sat up awkwardly, making sure the sheets were still wrapped tightly around them. Hermione’s cheeks warmed a little as she guessed why. “Pansy, what’s wrong?” Harry’s eyes widened suddenly, and his hand fell to Draco’s thigh.

“Do you remember I told you something happened last night?” he asked quickly, in an undertone, looking at Draco. Draco sucked in a breath. His hand found Harry’s and their fingers intertwined.

“Are you alright, Pansy?” he asked. “Was it…did something happen to your…your parents?”

Pansy shook her head. “Not my parents, Draco,” she murmured, turning slowly to look Draco in the eye. Draco’s hand tightened around Harry’s, becoming a nearly bone-crushing grip.

“Then whose?” he asked in a slightly shaky voice. Pansy’s lips pressed thinly together as water welled up in her eyes. Harry tried to meet Hermione’s gaze, but she had looked away and had a hand pressed tightly against her mouth. Beyond her, Dean and Seamus were still in the room, eyes wide as they watched the scene unfold.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” Pansy whispered. Draco jerked back.

“No,” he said, blinking.

“Draco-”

“NO!” He swung around, dropping Harry’s hand as his own formed a fist. His face was suddenly flushed with color. “No, you’re _wrong_.”

“Draco, it was in the Daily Prophet!” Pansy said, tears going unnoticed as they fell from her eyes. “I wish it hadn’t happened- I’m sorry, Draco, but your mum-”

“I don’t believe you. Harry, tell her she’s wrong!” Draco said tightly, grabbing onto Harry’s shoulder. Harry was staring at Hermione, though, who was nodding slowly at him now. He was also remembering flashes of a somewhat familiar face, though one he had never spoken to. Someone who he had only ever seen once…

“Draco…” he said softly, that horrible feeling he’d woken up with last night coming back and filling his chest with dread. He turned to look at Draco, and whatever Draco saw in his eyes seemed to break him. Draco blinked rapidly, several times, and the hand he had on Harry’s shoulder clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“That’s impossible,” he said shortly. “It…it doesn’t even make sense- There’s no way my mother is-…my mum…she can’t… _no_.” Draco was breathing so rapidly Harry was afraid he was going to start hyperventilating, so he quickly tried to wrap an arm around the boy’s waist. Draco jerked and reared back, falling awkwardly on the bed. “Don’t touch me!” he snapped.

Harry hesitated, before reaching forward again and trying to lay a hand on Draco’s arm. “Draco,” he said again.

“STOP IT!” Draco exploded, eyes squeezing shut. His eyes had a slightly glazed over look which worried Harry, and he tried once again to get hold of Draco’s arm. Draco nearly elbowed him in the nose in his attempt to move away. “ _NO!_ Stop it, stop lying to me! Is this some kind of joke? Were you trying to convince me to switch sides?! Well I already switched, didn’t I? So just…just _stop!_ Stop! IT ISN’T FUNNY ANYMORE!”

Hermione let out something that sounded like a choked sob, turning away. Pansy had buried her face in her hands again. Seamus and Dean had slipped out unnoticed a few minutes prior, once they’d realized what had happened.

Biting his lip slightly, Harry waited until Draco had tentatively opened his eyes again. Then he caught his gaze. Draco’s breathing gradually slowed as he stared at Harry, and he pressed his lips tightly together. His face went blank, expressionless, and he opened his mouth to say something but nothing would come out. Lower lip trembling slightly, Draco’s eyes slid shut, and he fell heavily against Harry, slowly curling into a ball. A small whimper escaped from his throat. “No…” he moaned, shaking his head. “Nonononono.” Harry propped his chin on top of Draco’s head and tightened his arms around him, barely noticing when Pansy crawled over and hugged Draco from behind.

“Severus, you don’t really think he’ll be up here, do you?” a voice suddenly said from outside their door. Harry glanced upwards.

“He’s not in the Slytherin common room, he’s not in the Great Hall; as loathe as I am to even think it, I believe he was most likely sharing living space with your Gryffindors last night.” Draco quickly sat up, looking wildly at the door. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall appeared, pausing abruptly as they saw the four teenagers in front of them.

“Mr. Potter!” McGonagall exclaimed, eyes going wide. “Do put some clothes on, would you? Especially in the presence of female company! Miss Granger, it is highly inappropriate for you to be in here when-”

“Minerva,” Snape interrupted quietly, nodding toward Draco, who was staring at them with red-rimmed eyes.

McGonagall sighed. “Oh dear,” she murmured. “Seems we didn’t make it in time.”

“Professor Snape,” Draco spoke up, dislodging himself from Harry and pushing Pansy off of him. “Is it-… Tell me the truth,” he said frantically. “I don’t…I don’t…”

Snape took a deep breath, drawing himself up. “Mr. Malfoy,” he began to say, in a very business-like tone, “It is my deepest regret to have to inform you of this-”

“ _Professor!_ ” Draco exclaimed desperately. Snape seemed to deflate a bit. He looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Draco,” he said softly, in a tone that showed he definitely had a closer relationship with his Slytherins than he ever showed in class. That alone seemed to undo Draco even further. Harry noticed Snape’s hand was shaking slightly as he pushed some greasy strands of hair out of his eyes. “Draco, I-… You know your mother and I were good friends. It…what happened was-” He cut himself off and suddenly straightened up, meeting Draco’s eyes. “The Dark Mark was found over the manor late last night…we just received word this morning.” Snape’s eyes slid shut. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for your loss.”

Draco’s breath hitched, and his eyes went unfocused. He bent over, pulling his legs up to his chest, and buried his face into them. Harry watched worriedly, at a complete loss as to what he should do. Pansy didn’t seem to know either; she was still staring at Snape.

It was silent for a moment, broken only when Ron burst through the door suddenly, causing everyone to start. Not even noticing the professors, Ron waved a letter around wildly. “Harry!” he yelled, “Harry, the Death Eaters have escaped from Azkaban!” Shocked exclamations sounded from all around the room. Draco jerked, and Harry leaned forward and grasped one of his hands. He couldn’t tell if Draco had noticed or not, even as he squeezed back tightly.

“When did this happen, Mr. Weasley?” McGonagall asked urgently, her face pale. Ron’s eyes widened as he noticed two of his teachers were there.

“Er-… Just this morning,” he answered awkwardly, blinking as he looked around the room. “A few hours ago. My father wrote to tell me- uh, Kingsley Shaklebolt told _him_ when he got to the Ministry. It’s not even in the Prophet yet.”

“Merlin,” McGonagall breathed as Snape scowled heavily.

“This was not merely coincidental,” Snape said slowly.

“It was a punishment,” Hermione said quietly, leaning against one of the other bed’s bedposts. Draco slowly turned his head to look at her. Snape eyed her silently.

“A punishment?” Pansy spoke up, her voice slightly hoarse. Hermione nodded, wearily closing her eyes.

“I’m sure Voldemort-” Half the room’s occupants shuddered. “-could have broken his Death Eaters out whenever he wanted. But they failed him last summer. They…they really messed up. So he left them there,” Hermione explained. “This…Draco’s mum…” Draco shuddered slightly, but Hermione plowed on, “It was Lucius’ mission, wasn’t it? The whole incident at the Ministry? And he failed. So Voldemort left all of the Death Eaters in prison to punish them, but even worse, and as a warning to not mess up again, I’m sure, he murdered his right-hand man’s wife. I…well I doubt he’d go after Draco, as well…”

“How very astute, Miss Granger,” Snape said snidely. “You seem to be very in tune with the Dark Lord’s way of thinking. However, I have to say that you are most likely correct.” Snape let out a breath through his nose, casting a sidelong glance at McGonagall. “The Dark Lord loves punishing those who do not follow through with their orders. And he was already upset with Lucius because of the diary.”

“The diary, professor?” Hermione asked. “The one that Ginny Weasley had?”

“That does not concern you, Miss Granger, and it is not of importance at the moment,” Snape replied.

“Did you know?” Draco suddenly spoke up, in a very quiet voice.

“What, Draco?” Harry asked quickly. Draco lifted his head, giving Snape a very cold, hard look.

“Did you know?” he asked again, fury working its way into his voice. “Did you know that that _bastard_ was going to go after my mother?!”

Snape gave Draco a long, level look. “Do you really think that little of me?”

“You used to be a Death Eater!” Draco cried insistently. “Just like my father! I’ve seen your mark, I know you’ve got one! I don’t care if you can trick Dumbledore, you can’t fool me. You’ve probably been working with _Him_ ever since he came back!” Pansy was staring at Snape accusingly now, too. Ron scoffed.

“Do you really think Dumbledore can be fooled that easily?” he asked. “Of course he knows Snape’s a Death Eater, you prat-”

“Ron!” Harry interrupted harshly as Draco began sneering at Ron.

“What? He’s being an idiot, Harry.”

“Did you perhaps miss the part where Draco said, ‘did you know that that bastard was going to go after my mother,’ Weasley?” Pansy asked coolly. Ron blinked, his eyes going wide as he looked at her.

“You-Know-Who went after your mother?” he asked, shocked.

“No!” Pansy exclaimed, exasperated. “Not _my_ mother!”

“Ron, you didn’t see the Daily Prophet this morning?” Hermione asked softly.

“Weasley doesn’t check the Daily Prophet,” Draco said, his voice cracking a bit though he was trying to sound uncaring. “He relies on you for all of his earthly knowledge, you know that.”

“Alright, enough,” Snape said. “Mr. Malfoy, I think you should come back with me to Slytherin so that we may discuss-”

“Oh, bugger off, you great overgrown bat!” Draco snapped, glaring at Snape. “I still don’t trust you!”

“Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said in a hard tone, “I am merely suggesting that-”

“I don’t care!” cried Draco. “Why don’t you go wash your hair or something, you fucking traitor!”

“Draco!” Snape boomed, a slight flush suffusing his sallow cheeks. McGonagall let out a suspicious sounding cough. Snape glared at her, and she quickly regained her composure.

“Mr. Malfoy, I think you should go with Professor Snape,” she said levelly.

“Well _I_ think,” Draco’s voice slipped up a notch, “that I would really, _really_ like to be alone right now!”

“Of course, that was what I was _trying_ to suggest,” Snape said in an annoyed tone. “So if you would just come with me…”

“Er, we’re not exactly…um…dressed,” Harry spoke up, blushing. The professors blinked.

“At all?” Snape asked faintly, eyeing the covers wrapped around Harry’s and Draco’s waists. His lip curled in disgust.

“No…” Harry mumbled.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. “Alright, everyone clear out and give them some privacy,” she said. Hermione nodded and turned to leave at once. She paused beside Ron, who was staring at Draco, seemingly having finally caught on to exactly who had died.

“Malfoy…” he said softly. “I…I’m really sor-”

“SHUT UP!” Draco roared, bending over and covering his ears. “Shut up shut up shut up- I don’t want to hear it from you, Weasley, just get OUT!” Ron opened his mouth again, looking determined, but Hermione caught his wrist gently and shook her head when he looked at her. Silently, they left the room together. Pansy trailed after them, turning at the door to look back at Draco.

“Do you- do you want me to wait for-”

“ _OUT!!_ ” Draco screamed, sounding almost hysterical. Pansy nodded, looking as if she wanted to cry again but was determined not to, and she left. McGonagall followed her.

“I will be waiting outside the portrait for you,” Snape said, “to make sure you get back to Slytherin in one piece.” Then he left as well. As soon as the door shut behind him, Draco leapt out of bed and began pulling on his clothes in a hurried, half-hazard manner.

“Draco…?” Harry said softly, watching him.

“Shut up, Harry, I don’t want to hear it,” Draco muttered as he pulled his shirt on inside-out.

“Draco, look, what can I-”

“You saw it, didn’t you?” Draco interrupted, yanking on his trousers and leaving them undone.

“Saw… Oh. Yeah, I think I did,” Harry said awkwardly. Draco paused, holding his shoes, and stared hard at nothing in particular. His shoulders drooped slightly.

“You would have told me, right? If you’d really recognized who it was?”

“Of course,” Harry replied immediately. “I would have, definitely. But…but I’d only ever seen your mum that one time- at the Quidditch Cup, you remember?”

Draco nodded, and then, with his shoes still in his hands, he moved toward the door.

“Wait, Draco, let me come with you,” Harry said, throwing back the sheets and grabbing his boxers from the floor.

“No,” Draco said quietly. “I don’t want you to.”

“Draco-”

“Stay here, Harry!” Draco snapped. The door slammed shut behind him when he left.

* * *

Harry left Draco alone for most of the morning, and went down to see him later that afternoon. Pansy met him at the Slytherin common room entrance and walked with him to the sixth-year boys’ room.

“Do you think he’ll actually want to see us?” Harry asked, pausing outside the door.

Pansy shrugged. “I don’t want to leave him alone for so long,” she said. “If anything, we need to at least check on him.” Harry nodded, and knocked tentatively on the door.

“ _Go the fuck away!_ ” they heard Draco yell from inside.

“…”

“Hmmm,” Pansy murmured.

“Right,” Harry nodded. “Come back later?”

“Yes, I think so.”

They returned that night, because there was no way either of them were in the mood to go to the Saturday party.

“I didn’t ask,” Harry said, glancing at his companion out of the corner of his eye. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright,” she replied. “It’s just…weird. I mean, nothing seems any different, because I don’t see her that often anyway, but…” Harry didn’t say anything, but he thought he understood what she meant. He was pretty sure Draco wouldn’t really feel the full impact of his mother’s loss until that summer, when he would go home to a house not just devoid of his father, but of any parents at all…

Sighing, Harry knocked on the door again. Maybe Draco could stay with him over the summer. Ron probably wouldn’t be too keen on that, though.

“Do you think he’s sleeping?” Harry said when no reply came from inside the room.

“Doubtful,” Pansy answered. She began turning the knob on the door, calling softly, “Draco?”

“If you come in here, I swear to Merlin, I _will_ hex you!” Draco snapped. Pansy let out a breath through her nose.

“Fine then,” she said to Harry. “He’ll come out when he’s ready, I guess. I’ll tell Professor Snape to have the House Elves bring him food.”

* * *

Come Monday morning, Harry still hadn’t seen Draco.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said to Seamus, whom he was partnered with in Herbology, since Ron was with Hermione. They were both wearing thick goggles and gloves, and trying to get the seed pods off the pesky plant in front of them that liked to squirt a gooey, acidic substance whenever one of its pods were yanked off.

“Did you go see him again?” Seamus asked, grunting as he wrestled with the plant.

“No,” Harry replied, wiping off his goggles after they got covered with bright green slime. “Not since yesterday morning. He doesn’t want to see anyone, so I’m giving him some privacy.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“About what?”

“That he wants privacy?”

“Well, he’s certainly not letting anyone in the room,” Harry muttered. He dropped some seeds into the bucket on their table, sighing.

“Well…maybe he’s just acting like he doesn’t want anyone there,” Seamus suggested. “But really, who wants to be alone for so long after something like that?”

“Maybe he does,” Harry shrugged. “I don’t know… Seamus, I think he’s mad at me.”

Seamus stilled with his hand around one of the seed pods, and gave Harry an incredulous look. “Why do you think that?”

“It’s just…” Harry waved his hand around aimlessly, as if he couldn’t think of how to say what he wanted to say. “I mean, I kind of…saw it happen. Sort of.” Seamus blinked.

“Did you really?” he asked.

“Yeah…”

“But…how…?”

Harry pointed at his forehead. “This. I couldn’t remember who it was, or what exactly had happened, but I knew it was bad. Or well, it _felt_ bad, which now I know is because it was bad for Draco and-”

“And you care about him,” Seamus finished his sentence. Harry nodded.

“Yeah. And…well, I woke up, and it woke Draco up, but I just couldn’t remember…”

“Well, Harry, it’s not like you could have stopped it. And it sounds like it was already done when you woke up, anyway.”

“I know,” Harry said. “But still. Maybe he’s…bitter about it? Possibly?” Seamus looked doubtful. “Oh, I don’t know!” Harry exclaimed, exasperated. “I just don’t want him to be mad at me or something!”

“Heh, well, it’s not really about you, is it, Harry?” Seamus pointed out. “If that’s why you haven’t tried to see him again… I think you need to try a little harder, mate.”

Harry frowned, but before he could say anything Professor Sprout yelled at them to get back to work. Sighing, he went back to yanking off seed pods as Seamus grumbled about some of the goo that had got in his hair.

* * *

Tuesday evening came, and Harry still hadn’t seen Draco since he’d stormed out of the Gryffindor dorms on Saturday. He hadn’t tried going back again, even though Seamus, Hermione, and even Ron had suggested that he should. He really didn’t think it would do any good. Draco was stubborn, Harry knew that, and barging in on him right now was probably the worst possible thing he could do. Even Snape must have realized Draco just needed some time alone to mourn, because the boy hadn’t been back to classes again.

It was almost past curfew now, and Harry was sitting on one of the couches in the Gryffindor common room, staring morosely at the fire and feeling helpless, when suddenly he felt someone sit down next to him.

“Harry?” whoever-had-sat-next-to-him said. Harry turned, a little surprised to see Colin there.

“Hey, Colin,” he greeted, brow furrowing a bit. “What’s up?” The fifth-year was fiddling with something and looking sheepish as he bit his lip slightly.

“I- uh- I meant to give this to you a while back,” Colin stuttered, blushing. “But I forgot and-and I was digging through some old photos earlier and I saw it again and I thought you might want it so I…um…w-well, here.” He thrust a photograph at Harry, and then stood up. He smiled brightly. “I think it turned out really well, so I hope you like it!” Then he sped off, leaving Harry looking in confusion down at the glossy white surface of the back of whatever picture Colin had given him. Turning it over slowly, Harry promptly blushed.

Goodness…

It was the picture Seamus had told Colin to take of Harry and Draco, when the two of them had been highly occupied in…other matters… Harry grinned as he watched his picture-self slam picture-Draco up against the doorframe. It looked like they were trying to devour each other’s tonsils, the way they were going at it. Harry felt his smile fade and he began to feel depressed again. What he wouldn’t give to be kissing Draco like that right now…

“Oh, for God’s sake, Potter! It’s not like _your_ mother died!”

“ _Pansy_?” Harry asked incredulously, turning to look over the back of the couch at the Slytherin girl. “How did you get in here?”

“I let her in,” Hermione said, stepping up beside her friend and crossing her arms. “We want to talk to you.”

Harry blinked. “Okay…” he said slowly, looking back and forth between the two of them. Hermione sighed.

“Harry, what are you doing?” she asked, almost sounding exasperated.

“What do you mean?”

“She means, why are sitting up here looking like your puppy just got hexed when your _boyfriend_ hasn’t left his room for _four days_?” Pansy snapped, propping her fists up on her waist.

“Well, I-” Harry paused, frowning. Why did they look so annoyed with him? “I don’t know what to do!” he exclaimed, suddenly feeling frustrated. “I mean, his mum just died- was _killed_ , rather, and I…I don’t… I don’t know what to say or do and…I’d just bollocks it up, I know I would.” He looked urgently at Hermione. “You know me, Hermione, you saw what happened with Cho. I’d just make it even worse, I know I would…”

“Pitying yourself much?” Pansy asked. “Where’s all that famous Gryffindor bravery?”

“Well I don’t see _you_ down there with him,” Harry shot back.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “That’s because he doesn’t need me. He needs _you_. Not that he’ll ever admit it.”

“But…” Harry sighed, turning back around and falling against the couch. He crossed his arms and stared into the fire again. “But I don’t know what to say to him…” He heard Hermione echo his sigh as she came around and sat down next to him.

“Harry, you don’t have to say anything to him,” she said. “He doesn’t need profound words of comfort, or amazing acts of kindness… Draco just needs someone to be there for him.”

“But-”

“No, Harry, listen to me,” Hermione interrupted. “Do you remember when Sirius died? You remember how awful the first part of your summer was?” Harry winced, and leaned forward so that he was resting his elbows on his knees.

“Yes,” he whispered. “How can I forget…?”

“And why was that?” Hermione asked. “Were you just waiting for someone to come tell you everything would be alright? That even though Sirius was dead, life would continue and you had to be happy because Sirius would have wanted you to be? That Sirius was in a better place and was probably glad to be there?”

Harry frowned. He was pretty sure he would have punched anyone who told him that.

“You see?” She smiled gently. “You don’t need words like that. They’re meaningless, they just fill up empty air and cover awkward silences. And you don’t need to try to talk abut what happened. If we even mentioned Sirius back in July, you’d freeze up. You’d leave the room, or change the subject. You didn’t _want_ to talk about it. Now you can…sort of. The wound’s not so deep, in any case, and you’ve accepted what happened.”

Harry raked his hands through his hair, and let out a long breath. “I don’t know, Hermione… What if Draco doesn’t want anyone there? He’s not _me_ , you know.”

“Obviously,” Pansy snorted, finally coming around to sit on the arm of the couch.

“Harry, how much better did you feel once you got to the Burrow? Once you were around people who cared about you, who knew what had happened. It didn’t matter what we said, just that we were-”

“Just that you were there,” Harry cut in softly, eyes falling shut. “I did feel better,” he admitted. “It was…hard…just being by myself in that room, feeling like no one knew how miserable I was. Well, I _know_ the Dursleys didn’t know. Or care. That was the worst, feeling like nobody cared…”

“And how do you think Draco feels right now?” Pansy said. “He hasn’t even heard from his father yet, I don’t think. And he probably won’t. He basically parentless.”

“Oh God…” Harry murmured. “I forgot about Lucius…”

“The Malfoy name isn’t near as respected nowadays as it was a few years ago,” Pansy pointed out. “So I know Draco is thinking that no one cares one way or another about him right now. And his mum’s funeral is on Friday and I don’t think too many people will be going. Plus, Professor Snape said that Aurors will be present, in case Mr. Malfoy tries to attend.” Harry blinked, looking at her.

“That…that seems kind of harsh,” he murmured, feeling a strange mix of pity for a man who might only want to attend his wife’s funeral, and hope that he _did_ go and so he could be arrested again.

Pansy nodded. “It’ll just make the whole ordeal so… _impersonal_.” She snorted. “Like he’d be stupid enough to show up anyway. Of course, if he does, it’ll only make the day that much worse…”

Harry was silent for a few seconds. He couldn’t imagine…having your mother buried and then your father arrested _again_ , and on the same day at that… Sighing, Harry asked softly, “Has the Slytherin password changed recently?”

Pansy and Hermione shared quick looks of relief and grinned.

* * *

When Harry knocked softly on the Slytherin sixth-year boys’ dorm, he was once again told to, “ _Fuck off!_ ”

“He still won’t let anyone in while he’s awake,” Blaise, who was standing with Harry outside the door, said. “We have to sneak in after he’s already gone to bed and wake up early the next morning and leave quietly. Otherwise he’ll hex us. He got Theo pretty good yesterday.”

“Well I’m going in,” Harry said, feeling like he was running on adrenaline and trying not to think about what would happen when he actually got into the room. “He hasn’t got the door locked, so apparently he’s not trying to hard to keep people out…”

“You remember which bed is his- oh, sorry, stupid question.” Blaise chuckled as Harry blushed a bit.

“Wish me luck,” Harry muttered, and then he pushed the door open and shut it softly again behind him after he’d stepped through. “Draco?” he called. He heard the covers rustling behind the curtains of Draco’s bed.

“Harry?” Draco said in a small voice. The curtains parted a bit and Draco looked through. “Was that you knocking? I though you were Vincent…” Harry took a step forward.

“No, it was me,” he confirmed, taking another step. Draco blinked a couple of times, swallowing.

“It’s about time you got here,” he croaked. Harry’s stomach twisted, and he had to force himself to keep walking. Had Draco actually been waiting for him…?

“Sorry I’m late,” he replied softly, trying to push aside his guilt. He closed the remaining distance between them and pulled the curtains apart even further. Draco stared up at him for a second, and then shifted over to make more room. Swallowing, Harry toed off his shoes, and crawled slowly onto the bed. He leaned back against the pillows, feeling Draco’s eyes on him, and once he had gotten himself situated, he lifted his arm a bit. Draco curled against him immediately, clutching at his shirt, and Harry smiled softly as he lowered his arm around Draco’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“S’fine,” Draco murmured. “I was…I didn’t know if-”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said once again, urgently. “I thought you wanted to be alone. Everyone kept trying to tell me to come see you, but I didn’t think you wanted me here.”

Draco shrugged. “I didn’t. Not really. Not until just now, when I heard your voice and I wondered why you hadn’t come sooner.”

“I did, though. I came on Saturday and Sunday.”

“Did you?” Draco blinked. “I thought that was just Pansy…”

“I was with her.” Draco made a noncommittal sound, and the two of them stayed quiet for a few moments as Harry absently stroked Draco’s shoulder. “Are you wearing a sweatshirt?” he asked eventually, as he felt the familiar material of Draco’s clothing.

“Erm…” Draco glanced up at him, smirking a little. “It’s yours, actually.”

Harry blinked. “I don’t own a green sweatshirt…” he pointed out.

“No, but you don’t honestly expect me to wear a _red_ one, do you?”

“I’ve never thought about you wearing one at all, actually. Too muggle for you, I suppose.”

Draco shrugged. “They’re comfortable…” he said, pulling the collar of the sweatshirt up to his nose and breathing in deeply. “It smells like you,” he mumbled, his voice even more muffled from behind the material.

“Does it now?” Harry said, amused.

“Yeah. Quidditch and sweat.”

“Lovely,” Harry said, wrinkling his nose. “I wasn’t aware Quidditch smelled like anything.”

“Of course it does,” Draco said. “Smells like grass and brooms and polish and…sweat.”

“Sweat, eh,” Harry repeated. “The new ‘scent of the month’ for Witches Weekly.”

“Of course,” Draco smirked.

“That’ll sell. Wait. Hang on-” Harry straightened up and stared down at Draco. “Red- I was wondering what had happened to that one!”

Draco chuckled. “I’ve had it for months now.”

Harry blinked. “Oh. Oh! That’s the one…?”

“Yep. From the first time we played ‘I’ve Never.’”

“You’ve had it this whole time?”

“Mhmm.”

“Oh. …Do you wear it often?”

“If I’m particularly cold…”

Grinning widely and feeling giddy for some reason, Harry settled back down again, pulling Draco tight against him. Looking towards the foot of the bed, he noticed several oddly shaped lumps.

“What’s all that?” he asked, nudging something with his foot.

“Oh.” Draco sat up suddenly. “Just…some keepsakes.” He reached for what looked like a miniature trunk that Harry figured was some sort of safe box or something. Absently handing it to Harry, he reached down again and gathered the rest of the shapes into his arms. They turned out to be pictures, some framed and some not. Harry hadn’t ever seen them before, as Draco didn’t keep many personal belongings out in the open. “They’re of my Mother,” Draco said softly, showing them to Harry.

Something in Harry’s stomach lurched, and he remembered how he’d looked continuously through old photo albums Remus had given him after Sirius had died. Seeing these photos of Narcissa Malfoy cast her in a new light for Harry. She didn’t look as he remembered her, as if something unpleasant had just died under her nose. Instead she was smiling softly in most of the pictures, gazing up at Draco with a sad look on her face, as if she knew what had happened. Some of the photos had a younger Draco accompanying her; some had Lucius, which made Harry’s gut clench.

“I’ve been looking at them over and over,” Draco said, rolling onto his back and looking up at the canopy. He crossed his arms behind his head. “Almost ripped one of them.” Harry began placing them back in the mini-trunk, looking at some of the other items in there as he did so. There was an old, dented Snitch that had one wing missing, a familiar looking piece of parchment tied with a green ribbon that made Harry feel giddy again, more pictures of Lucius that looked like they’d recently been crumpled up and then smoothed out again...

“I’ve got something else you can put in here,” Harry said suddenly. Draco glanced over at him, and Harry pulled the picture Colin had just given him out of his pocket. He chuckled as he looked it over again, and then he handed it to Draco.

“What- bloody hell!” Draco exclaimed, eyes going wide as he looked down at the photo. “When were we doing this in front of other people?”

“Colin took it, remember?” Harry laughed, leaning over to watch it.

“Who the fuck is _Col_ \- Oh. Creevey. Right. The president of your fan club.”

“I don’t have a fan club,” Harry muttered, but Draco ignored him as he continued to stare at Colin’s picture.

“I look like I’m an absolute bottom in this picture,” he said faintly, as his picture-self fell back again the doorframe and hooked a leg behind picture-Harry’s knees. “God, fight back, you prat! Stop being such a submissive git!”

“I don’t know, I’d say you’re giving as well as you’re getting,” Harry mused. Their picture-selves broke apart, staring at each other like there was nothing else in the universe that could possibly distract them. Draco frowned.

“I’m certain I don’t look at you like that.”

“Nah, you have eyes for only me. You know it.”

“Not true. I noticed Terry Boot looked pretty fit last week.”

“Great, well, now I’ll have to kill him,” Harry said matter-of-factly.

“No need, I think he’s straight,” Draco smirked. He looked back at the picture. “Thanks for this,” he said softly. “I’ll add it to my collection.” Harry nodded, and they fell silent again.

“Harry,” Draco said after a while, “do you think…if word gets around that I’m _not_ going to join the Dark Lord, do you think that everyone will think it’s because of my…my…my m-mother?”

“Well,” Harry said, “some of it is because of her, right? She didn’t want you to join in the first place.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Draco said dryly. “Everyone will think I’m out for revenge.”

“Draco, since when have you given a fuck about what everyone else thinks?”

“Hmm. You’re right.” Draco huffed. “But…I mean, it might be nice if people knew that I chose for myself.”

“Maybe no one will care why you made the choice that you did,” Harry murmured. “Maybe all they’ll care about is that you made the _right_ choice. And your mum knew that you made the right choice. That’s good enough, isn’t it? Oh-” Harry tensed suddenly, as a thought occurred to him. “She…she did get that letter, right?”

Draco nodded. “I wasn’t actually sure if she had. I…well, the weather’s been pretty poor lately so it takes longer for owls to get through and I hadn’t heard anything from her… But I got a letter yesterday. One that she wrote last week. I-” He stopped there, blinking rapidly, and breathed in deeply as if to calm himself.

Harry waited a moment, before saying, “Pansy said she didn’t think you’d heard from Lu-…from your father yet.”

“No,” Draco replied gruffly. “I’m not sure I will. If he goes back to the manor and…and finds that letter. Ha, well, that won’t go over well, I’m sure…”

“He’d be angry with you?”

“Disappointed, maybe,” Draco shrugged. “Most likely he’ll pretend to be mad in front of the Dark Lord, but really he’ll be relieved that _I’m_ not about to die. I think.” He sounded unsure of himself, so Harry really didn’t want to point out that, as Voldemort was a very powerful Legilimens, if Lucius tried to pull a stunt like that, then Draco would probably end up more like Harry than he’d ever wanted to. That, and Harry was doubtful Lucius would be anything but pissed that Draco had chosen to ignore basically everything that he’d been brought up to believe.

Instead, he said carefully, “I think Lucius will be worried about keeping himself alive, now that he knows Voldemort’s mad at him.”

“You believe what Granger said, then,” Draco said tiredly, rubbing his eyes. Harry nodded. “I’m tired of thinking about it. My mind’s been going in circles for days. Whatever happens happens. I know where I stand.” Draco kept rubbing his eyes, and his voice was starting to sound thick, as if his nose was stuffed up. “I don’t want to think anymore. I don’t want to think of _anything_.” He looked up at Harry suddenly, eyes wide. “Distract me, Harry,” he pleaded desperately. “ _Please_. Do something, anything!”

“Uhh,” Harry racked his brain frantically, “I…I don’t-” But Draco grabbed his arm before he could finish talking.

“Fuck me,” he said plaintively. Harry blinked owlishly.

“What?” he asked, thinking he had heard wrong. But he hadn’t.

“Fuck me,” Draco said again, his grip on Harry’s arm tightening. “ _Hard_. So hard I forget where I am and what’s going on. Make me think of something else- no, make me think of _nothing_. Nothing but you and me and what we’re doing. Just…just make me forget, _please!_ ” And then he reached behind Harry’s neck and slammed their mouths together. Harry allowed it for a few seconds and then pulled back.

“You’re sure?” he asked, not sure if Draco was really in the right frame of mind to be doing this…

“ _Yes_ ,” Draco exclaimed, the word coming out like a dry sob. “Hurt me, fuck me, I don’t care, just _do_ something!”

“Alright,” Harry murmured, pushing Draco down on the bed. He let out another gasping sob of a breath, clearly trying to hold it back. Harry ignored it, and started peeling off Draco’s clothes. He took his time, feeling as if every article of clothing he removed was stripping away another one of Draco’s defenses; another one of his walls. And then he was naked and vulnerable beneath him, eyes wide and staring up at Harry and only at Harry, and Harry had never felt so much in control as he did right at that moment.

He removed his own clothes quickly, digging through his pockets to find his wand before tossing them off to the side. He cast a couple of quick spells in succession, one to glue the curtains shut, another so that no one outside could hear anything. Another spell slicked his fingers, and he was about to work one inside of Draco when the boy stopped him.

“No,” he croaked, voice hoarse all of a sudden. “Just do it.” Harry looked at him silently, and then he nodded and cast the same spell over his cock instead. One hand wrapped around himself as he positioned himself against Draco; the other grabbed one of Draco’s hands and held it above his head, intertwining their fingers.

“Ready?” Harry asked, and then didn’t wait for an answer as he pushed inside of Draco. Draco grunted, eyes squeezing shut.

“More,” he panted. “All the way. Come on…” And Harry acquiesced, moving forward with one quick thrust and imbedding himself completely within Draco. Draco gasped, but other than that didn’t do anything except reach down with his free hand to grasp his own cock.

Harry began moving, setting a pace that Draco quickly matched, and keeping his eyes on Draco the entire time. Different expressions swept over Draco’s face; pain, pleasure, desperation for something Harry wasn’t sure he could give. And all the while he kept his eyes shut. It made Harry feel a little strange, almost like he was taking advantage of Draco. But he knew that wasn’t the case, because Draco has asked for this. So when Draco let out a strangled, “ _Harder_ ,” Harry quickly complied.

He sped up, slamming into Draco so that their skin made continuous slapping sounds when their hips met. Harry was panting now, sweat dripping off his brow as Draco let out hoarse cries which Harry wasn’t sure were good or bad. Draco still had his hand around his cock, but his grip was slacking and he wasn’t matching the pace they were moving, so Harry slapped his hand away and did it himself.

Draco yelped as Harry’s hand tightened. His hands were callused from spending so much time on his broomstick, and it added to the friction as Harry’s hand moved so quickly it was nearly a blur. Draco’s mind whirled and his stomach twisted and he could feel his thighs shaking as the pressure built up in his groin. He was on the verge of telling Harry to slow down, the feelings were so completely overwhelming, but he bit his tongue and instead slammed his hips upwards, relishing the feel of Harry’s cock buried so deep inside of him.

“Fuck- Harry- _fuck!_ ” he exclaimed as everything spiraled out of control. Draco thought the room might have actually gone black for a moment, before he realized his eyes were still shut. But then he noticed that Harry wasn’t inside of him anymore, and Draco definitely didn’t remember him pulling out, so either time had just jumped a minute ahead, or he really did black out for a moment.

Harry had stilled the moment Draco came with a loud, sobbing yell, his body going limp beneath Harry’s. It didn’t take long to finish himself off, and he cast a careful look over Draco as he wiped his hand off on the sheets. Then suddenly Draco’s eyes finally opened, and he looked at Harry with a dazed look on his face.

His eyes were wet, and it was on the tip of Harry’s tongue to ask if the trails running down his cheeks were because Harry had hurt him, but he instantly knew that these tears were from a pain of a completely different kind, and Draco didn’t seem to notice them.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked softly, lowering himself to the bed beside Draco. Draco nodded, but then his eyes welled up and he shook his head slowly.

“No,” he said thickly, moving as if in slow motion and turning on his side towards Harry. His hands rose to cover his face, and Harry nearly panicked when he heard Draco’s first choking sob. “No, I’m not alright,” Draco said, gulping and sobbing again. “Fuck, _d-damn it_ , I p-promised myself I wouldn’t c-c-cry!” he moaned. Harry’s thoughts sped as he tried to think desperately of what to do, what to say…and then he remembered what Hermione, Pansy, and Seamus had tried to make him understand.

There was nothing he could say right now that would take away Draco’s pain. There was nothing that would make his mother come back.

Instead, Harry could suffer through it with him.

He wrapped his arms around Draco’s shaking torso, which only made Draco cry harder, and pulled Draco close against him.

“You haven’t cried yet?” he murmured, and felt Draco shake his head.

“N-n-no,” he said, shuddering and gulping again. “I w-wouldn’t let myself.”

“It’s ok to cry,” Harry said softly, remembering how he’d sat by the lake after Sirius had died and nearly bawled his eyes out.

“I d-don’t need you t-to tell me that,” Draco muttered, rubbing the heel of one of his hands against his eye. He already seemed to be calming down. Harry figured it had just been a sudden build-up of emotion that had needed to break through. Even so, he continued holding Draco close, waiting for his shivering to subside.

“I want you to come to my mum’s funeral with me,” Draco said suddenly, startling Harry because he thought he’d nearly fallen asleep.

“You do?”

Draco nodded. “I…I never got to tell her. About us. I want her to know you.” Harry instantly thought of the Aurors that would be there. He was pretty sure they’d be Order Aurors, which meant that he’d know them. And most likely there’d be reporters there as well. Even though the Malfoy name had been trashed, there were still sure to be articles written up about everything that had happened in Voldemort’s latest attack on his right-hand man’s family. And if Harry showed up with Draco, that would only become the next day’s front page news as well.

It took maybe two seconds for Harry to decide that he really didn’t give a damn about all that.

“Of course I’ll come,” he answered promptly.

“You’ll stay with me the whole time?” Draco asked faintly, sounding as if he was actually falling asleep this time. Harry stroked his back softly, listening as his breath evened out, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Always.”


	17. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! All fanart and icons for SWAS can be found [here](http://maxine-chan.livejournal.com/117828.html)!

“You know what? Voldemort is a right pain in the arse.”

“Is he? I hadn’t realized…”

“Ha, right,” Harry snorted. He’d been standing in front of a mirror in the Gryffindor dormitory in nothing but his boxers and a white undershirt, absently trying to decide what he wanted to wear for the night. Now he glanced up into the glassy surface, catching sight of Draco sitting on a bed behind him, dressed much the same way. “It’s just…this stupid war,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Why did he ever have to start it if he was just going to up and disappear again?”

Draco snorted lightly, giving Harry an amused look. “Five months later, and _now_ you’re wishing it had never started? And he didn’t actually disappear, seeing as how we never knew where he was to begin with. He just…stopped. For a bit.” He stood and crossed to stand behind Harry, still looking at him in the mirror. Harry sighed again.

“Yeah, that’s true. I suppose I’m just feeling antsy, because usually I get into all sorts of trouble at the end of the year, but this time? Nothing. Not even a clue as to what he’s planning.” He dropped his eyes for a second, and then looked up again, chewing slightly on his bottom lip. “Draco, have you decided where you’re going to stay this summer yet?”

Draco blinked at the abrupt change of topic. “I…hmmm.” He looked away, rubbing his arm absently. “No,” he replied. “I suppose I should go back to the manor and make sure everything’s in order, but… It still doesn’t seem real, you know?” Harry didn’t answer and Draco looked back at him, continuing quickly, “I mean, it did…for about a minute. At the…at the funeral. But after that, being back here… I can still pretend that I’m going to see her over the summer. It feels like I am. But going back…when she _won’t_ be there…”

“…I know what you mean,” Harry murmured, thinking of Sirius, and how sometimes it still felt like he would write back if Harry sent him a letter.

Narcissa’s funeral had been an experience that Harry didn’t ever care to repeat. There obviously hadn’t been a funeral for Sirius, so, in a way, Harry had been able to treat Narcissa’s as if it was his as well. That had made it difficult, though, because he’d been saying goodbye to Sirius all over again, which only reopened old wounds that Harry had thought had long since healed.

The Aurors that had been stationed throughout the attendees hadn’t been needed, it turned out. No one had seen nor heard from Lucius since the breakout, and even months later, there still hadn’t been any movement from him. In fact, Voldemort’s attacks had stopped since Draco’s mother had been murdered, and no one had any idea what he might be planning to do next.

Which, of course, left everyone in a state of agitated panic. It wasn’t uncommon to be snapped at out of the blue, nowadays.

“Stay with me,” Harry blurted out suddenly, spinning around to face Draco. “I’ve got my own place- I mean, well, Sirius left it to me. You could stay there over the summer.” It came out in a jumbled rush, and Harry felt his cheeks warm slightly. He’d wanted to ask Draco for a few weeks now, but he hadn’t known what the others boy’s plans were, since Draco never gave him direct answer whenever he asked. But the days left until summer were dwindling, and if he didn’t ask now…

“Stay with you…?” Draco repeated faintly, staring at Harry wide-eyed.

“Yeah. Yeah, I mean… You’d have your own room, obviously. So you’d have some privacy. And a place to put your things. Not that I don’t want you sleeping in my room, but, you know, that way if anyone asks or gives you a hard time about it-”

“Harry,” Draco interrupted, smirking, “do you really think I care what anyone thinks about us anymore?” He gestured at the wall beside Seamus’ bed, where the Irish boy had taped up various newspaper clippings from a series of articles that had been released directly after the funeral. Everyday for nearly two weeks, the Daily Prophet had been showered with various pictures of Harry and Draco holding hands or leaning against each other, and there were even a few where Harry had his arm around Draco’s waist. All of them had been taken at the funeral, and they were accompanied by asinine headlines that started out somewhat innocently enough as:

_**Harry Potter’s New Angle – Befriending Death Eater Children?** _

Which had graduated into slightly more vulgar headings like:

_**The-Boy-Who-Lived…to be Queer?** _

And when they started running out of ideas, had ended up as:

_**The Only Girl for Potter? Not a Girl at All!** _

At first Harry had been mortified, then annoyed, then downright angry. Honestly, there had to be more important things that could be front page news, but with Voldemort’s attacks stopping so suddenly, the new scandal about everyone’s favorite teen hero was instant gold for the papers. Seamus insisted that the articles were funny, and he’d kept every single one. Then, after nearly a week of the Prophet’s speculation about Harry’s sexual orientation, Witch Weekly came out with headline shouting:

_**The Chosen One and the Death Eater’s Son – Hogwarts Hottest Hunks, and They’re Dating Each Other!** _

Written, of course, by everyone’s favorite nosy journalist, Rita Skeeter, and even complete with several interviews from students at Hogwarts. Harry had nearly snorted his juice through his nose when he saw it, while Draco had lamented about what a God-awful picture it was of him. From then on, Harry had just been amused with each new printing.

Then the mail had started pouring in, much like it had after he’d published his interview in The Quibbler during fifth year. Hate mail, support mail, random fan mail - and amidst all that, thank-you letters from boys and men of all ages. It was after the first thank-you letter that Seamus began taping up the articles beside his bed.

Of course there had also been letters from various members of the Order. Harry had been expecting that after he recognized Kingsley Shacklebolt as one of the Aurors stationed at the funeral, and soon enough he’d received several letters from Remus, the Weasleys, Tonks, and even Mad-Eye Moody, politely but very firmly asking him, “What the bloody _hell_ are you _thinking?!_ ”

He’d waited until he got word about an Order meeting before he sent the entire group a Howler telling them that, yes, he was dating Draco Malfoy, and would they all please shut the hell up and mind their own business, thank-you-very-much, as he was sixteen years old and had the right to date whomever he bloody well wanted to. Even if ‘whomever he bloody well wanted to’ happened to be another boy.

That had been the first time Draco had really looked happy since his mother had been buried.

Smiling slightly, Harry shook his head. “No, I guess not,” he said. “There’s really not much more the public can find out about us, is there? Unless, you know, someone catches us on video or something.”

“Video?” Draco asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Harry laughed. “Nothing. Muggle stuff.”

“Ah.”

“So, what do you think?” Harry asked again. “The house is plenty big, I promise.”

“Oh…” Draco frowned, scratching his ear absently. “I don’t know, Harry. I-”

“Come on, Draco! Look, we can even go for our Apparating license together,” Harry suggested.

“But- I don’t want to wait that long!” Draco said, rather petulantly. Then he grinned. “You’re just a baby, Harry,” he teased, flicking the boy’s nose. “Still only sixteen. Us older, more mature people can go for their licenses _now_.” Harry scowled and rubbed his nose.

“Draco, you just turned seventeen two days ago,” he said flatly. Draco beamed at him.

“And that makes me nearly two whole months older than you!” he said, lifting his chin a bit. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Well?” he asked pointedly.

“I’ll think about it,” Draco replied, stepping closer to Harry and draping his arms over his shoulders. “I think I’ll definitely be there for at least part of the summer…but there really is a lot that needs to get sorted out, still,” he continued in a softer tone, resting his forehead against Harry’s. Harry sighed.

“How are you holding up, really?” he said, finally asking the question that had been on his mind all night. Draco tensed slightly, and Harry plowed on, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. The closer we get to summer, the more distant you become. I’m…I’m worried about you…”

Draco pulled away and turned to the side. He crossed his arms in a way that made it look like his was hugging himself, and shrugged.

“Draco…”

“I’m nervous,” he finally replied, staring hard at the carpet. “I don’t really know what to expect. It…last summer, I thought I’d be able to handle it. My fa-… _Lucius_ was away enough that I was used to him not being there for short periods of time, but it was still a shock, to…to not have him there _at all_. But…with my mother… I don’t know, I think I still have to wrap my mind around the fact that she’s not going to be there waiting for me this year. And that she’s…not coming back. Ever.”

He rubbed a hand tiredly across his eyes, Harry watching him silently. “But I’m fine, really,” Draco insisted, turning back to Harry. “Just don’t know what to expect, is all.”

“Maybe…maybe I should go back to the manor with you?” Harry said slowly, watching to see how Draco reacted to that. “Just so you’re _not_ alone. Or…Professor Snape? Possibly?”

Draco snorted. “Yeah, right,” he muttered, but then reconsidered. “Well, maybe. We’ll see. Harry, I’ll let you know, I promise.” Harry grinned sheepishly, and Draco chuckled, before abruptly changing topics. “Right. Aren’t we supposed to be getting ready for my surprise party?”

Harry groaned, turning back to the mirror. “I _never_ said it was a surprise party!” he insisted. “It’s just the last Saturday party of the year, so it’s a bit more spruced up than usual.”

“Right, yeah, mhmm. But there’ll be presents,” Draco grinned.

“Nope, no presents,” Harry said, shaking his head resolutely. “And you already got mine, anyhow.”

“There’ll also be cake, you said.”

“No I did not.”

“Yes you did. A great big chocolate cake, that’s what you told me.”

“I did not!”

“Harry. Don’t be an idiot. You and I both know that I know it’s a surprise party. And that there’ll be presents. And cake. You let it slip, admit it!”

“It’s _not_. And I didn’t let anything slip. And there’s no cake.”

“Yeah, alright. Only there _is_.”

“… _No_ … I mean… It’s not…well…” Harry let out an exasperated breath. “Yeah, well, you know that if Pansy knows that _you_ know, then she’s going to kill me!”

“She wouldn’t,” Draco said, smirking, “because that would be an absolutely terrible present.”

“Maybe she’ll just throw the cake at me instead.”

“I think that would be even worse,” Draco quipped. Harry rolled his eyes, and Draco continued, “But anyway, I digress. We need clothes. And I don’t feel like venturing all the way back down to Slytherin for a new set of trousers, so I’m borrowing some of yours.”

Harry blinked, and then chuckled. “Right, then. Hmm, mine don’t fit you too well, though,” he murmured, kneeling in front of his trunk and rummaging through it. “I think you’re probably closer to Seamus’ size. He won’t mind if you borrow some of his stuff.”

Draco shrugged and wandered over towards Seamus’ bed. “Alright. Hey, Harry…do you think I could try something with your hair?”

“Haha. _No_.”

“Fine. Prat,” Draco muttered.

“Wanker,” Harry shot back in kind.

But they were smiling as they went about getting ready for the evening.

* * *

“Oy, Potter. I want a word with you.”

Harry cringed and froze, his glass still at his mouth, and looked warily over his shoulder. Pansy was standing there, arms crossed and looking annoyed. Harry could hear her foot tapping agitatedly against the ground. Swallowing slowly, he lowered his cup and turned around, beaming.

“Pansy!” he greeted, feigning cheerfulness. “What can I do for you?”

“Tell me, Potter. Why wasn’t Draco surprised about his party?” she asked frostily, eyes narrowing.

Harry laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Why, whatever do you mean? He looked perfectly surprised to me.” Which was true, if perhaps you were looking for someone with acting skills decent enough to play a secondary character in a B-quality soap opera…

In fact, the statement was so outrageous that Pansy’s stony façade broke, and she snorted, before promptly burst into giggles.

“Right,” she choked out through her laughter, “because the hands-on-cheeks, wide-eyed, ‘Oh my goodness, a _surprise_ party? For _me?_ ’ thing was oh-so-authentic.” She mimicked Draco as she said it, and Harry started chuckling as well, dragging a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said, grinning guiltily. “I really didn’t mean to tell him, but he got it out of me on Thursday…”

“Tortured you, did he?” Pansy quipped.

“Erm…” Harry blushed, “Well, there’s a slight possibility that I might not have realized exactly what I was saying at the time, because he might have had me in a kind of…desperate and quite incoherent state of mind. Possibly. You know.”

Pansy cocked an eyebrow, smirking. “Riiiiight,” she said, snickering. “ _Possibly_. Where is the birthday boy, anyway? You’ve been hogging him since Thursday; I haven’t even gotten to see him!”

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see if Draco was still where he’d left him, and then he looked back at Pansy and jutted his thumb in that direction. “He’s arguing with Hermione about the something-or-other theory about…something-or-other. Arithmancy, apparently. I left when they actually started waffling on in Greek.”

“Draco doesn’t speak Greek.”

“Well, it sounded Greek to me. I hadn’t a clue what they were talking about.”

“Let me guess,” Blaise, who had just strolled over towards the end of their conversation, said. “Arithmancy, right?” Pansy rolled her eyes, nodding.

“Draco loves Arithmancy,” she put in. “Almost more than Potions, I think.”

“Don’t I know it,” Harry replied. “He’s been trying to make me help him review for his exams.” Pansy and Blaise grinned, not looking nearly as sympathetic as Harry thought they should.

“Better you than me, mate!” Blaise exclaimed cheerfully, clapping Harry on the shoulder. Harry glowered at him, but the other boy simply stuck out his tongue. Harry opened his mouth to make a retort, but suddenly arms were wrapping around his waist and a very familiar voice sounded by his ear.

“I’d put that away, Blaise, unless of course you’re planning on using it anytime soon,” Draco said, smirking. Harry smiled, leaning back in Draco’s embrace so that he was resting gently against the boy’s chest.

“Ha!” Blaise scoffed. “You’d only be so lucky!”

“I’ve got my own, actually, thanks,” Draco replied loftily as he pressed a quick kiss to Harry’s cheek Harry turned his head and met his next kiss with one of his own, which they quickly became caught up in until Pansy shoved her way in between them.

“Enough, enough!” she exclaimed, pushing the two of them apart. “Merlin, you’re like leeches, I swear!”

“But- Pansy!” Draco protested. “It’s my birthday!”

“Actually, Draco, your birthday was two days ago,” Blaise pointed out helpfully. Draco shot him a quick glare, which Blaise only grinned at.

“Birthday or not, I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages. Come on!” Pansy insisted, pouting. Then she continued in a sing-song voice, “There’s a present waiting for you!” Draco’s eyebrows went up.

“Is there really? Well then!” He shrugged at Harry and then allowed Pansy to pull him to a fairly empty corner of the room, grinning the entire time. Harry rolled his eyes, before glancing at Blaise.

“Do you know what else Pansy has planned for tonight?” he asked. Blaise’s face scrunched up in thought.

“The usual, I think. She’s been too busy studying like mad to do much planning.”

“Right. Studying. Yeah, we’ve been studying a lot as well.”

Blaise gave Harry a flat look. “Is that what you call it, then?”

Harry felt his cheeks warm, and he rolled his eyes. “Yes, that _is_ usually how one refers to reviewing all of one’s notes and reading over various chapters from the books in order to prepare for an exam, after all.” He paused briefly, and then continued with an impish grin, “It’s the study _breaks_ you have you worry about, though I suppose we certainly took a fair amount of those…”

“Well color me shocked,” Blaise said dryly, turning to leave. Harry snorted and shared a final grin with Blaise before they both headed off to other parts of the room.

* * *

The night grew on, and as usual people began dropping out and heading back to their common rooms long before the party actually ended. Because it was the week before exams, more students left than normal, claiming they had a lot of studying to do the next day. So when Pansy finally called everyone together late in the evening, they were left with only a few students from each house. 

“I couldn’t resist,” Pansy said, once everyone had gathered together. “It’s tradition, after all.” And she presented an empty firewhiskey bottle to the group with a catlike grin. “It’s how these parties even started, remember?”

And so the game began.

**

“Ew, no.”

“What- Draco!”

“No! I’m not kissing _him_.”

“Oh, thank Merlin.”

“Ron, shut up. Draco, you can’t just break the rules like that.”

A raised eyebrow. “Do you _want_ to watch me kiss your best friend?”

“Well, no… You have before, though.”

“Ok, that was then and this is now and times are different! It’s my birthday anyway, so I’ll do what I want.”

“It’s _not_ your birthday.”

“Shut up, Blaise.” Pause. Glance around the circle. “I’ll just kiss Granger instead.”

“ _Hey_ -”

In unison. “Shut up, Ron!” “-Weasley!”

**

“Oh no, that’s not on either.”

Exasperated sigh. “ _Draco_.”

“I’m not going to watch you snog Weasley!”

“You can’t _always_ have your way.”

“ _No_.”

“But- mmph! Mmphf-…mmmmm…”

Several seconds of silence. “Alright, boys.” Pause. “Draco. Potter.” Another pause. “ _Draco!_ ”

“What, Pansy?! Merlin, can’t even give us one minute…”

“Do it on your own time! The rest of us are tired of watching you dry-hump each other all over the place!”

“…”

**

“Harry.” Silence. “Harry?”

Not paying attention. “Hmm?”

Tugging on a sleeve. “ _Harry!_ ”

Annoyed. “What, Ron?”

“Should I be worried?”

“About what?”

Gesture at the middle of the circle. “Hermione and Pansy…don’t they look like they’re… _enjoying_ themselves a bit too much?”

“Umm…” Not paying attention again.

“I mean, really, it’s been nearly a minute now…” Pause. “Hey! Hands stay on her waist, Parkinson! Not above _or_ below it!”

**

Lots of coughing and spluttering.

“Well I guess we know Neville’s straight.”

Faces are actually turning green.

“Blaise, too.”

“They hardly even touched each other.”

“Well, Blaise has always been a bit of a drama queen.”

“…Really, Draco? _He’s_ a drama queen?”

“Yes. Why?”

Head shaking. Sigh. “Nothing, nothing.”

**

“Hahaha, Finnigan has to kiss a _girl_. Figures.”

“Hannah doesn’t seem to mind.”

A grin. “But Finch-Fletchley does.”

**

“Oh God. Like I don’t see those two going at it enough.”

“Draco!”

“Harry, shut up. It hurts my eyes. I can’t watch.”

“…Then don’t.”

“I can’t look away. It’s like watching a train wreck.”

“Funny, Ron says the same thing about us.”

“…Well. How rude.”

**

“Um…Draco?” Silence. “Draco? Seamus??”

“Harry, shush.”

“But…but, Hermione!”

“It’s just kissing, Harry.”

“…” Eyes widen. “That’s a far bit more than kissing- Seamus, get your hands out from under his shirt!”

Lazy grin as they separate for a second. “My shirt, you mean. He is wearing _my_ clothes, after all.” Silence again.

“Hey!” Shuffling sounds, slight scuffle.

Pouting. “I was enjoying that…”

Grin. “Thanks, Justin.”

“No problem, Harry.”

**

“…I actually have nothing to say about this one.”

“Yeah.”

Snort. “How ironic that it’s a rarity when we actually see a girl and a boy kissing.”

“Parvati looks jealous of her sister. Merlin knows why; it’s Zacharias Smith, after all.”

Smirk. “ _I_ think he’s good looking.”

Flatly. “That’s because he looks like you. Sort of.”

“Just not as fit.”

Shared grin. “Yes.” Pause. “Though it’s hard to say who has a more annoying personality.”

“…” _Smack_.

“…Ow.”

“You deserved it.”

Pause. Apologetic look.

Rolling his eyes. Slight smile.

Hands intertwine.

* * *

It was late in the night now, and the room was deserted except for two boys who were lying together on one of the couches.

Draco was sprawled out on top of Harry, arms folded across the boy’s chest with his chin resting on top of them. Harry had his hands crossed behind his head. They’d been resting like that for nearly half an hour now, silently. Draco was finally beginning to doze off when Harry brought one hand down and brushed some wispy bangs off the other boy’s forehead. The movement made Draco blink sleepily and he looked up at Harry questioningly. Harry smiled gently at him. He moved his leg a little, as it was starting to cramp up from Draco’s weight on top of it, and Draco shuddered slightly.

Harry paused for a second, noticing the movement, and then he pressed up again, feeling Draco’s half-hard arousal against his thigh. Smirking, he raised an eyebrow, moving his leg slowly against the other boy.

Draco’s lips curved upwards in return, but after a second he shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “Not tonight. This might be the last bit of free time we have together, you know.”

Harry stilled, and his eyes went a little wide. “Is it?” he asked, looking as if he was trying to figure something out in his head.

“Well, I mean we have exams all next week,” Draco pointed out, “And then the year’s over. I doubt we’ll find any time to ourselves on the train. And then I’ll be at the manor for the first part of the summer.”

“Oh,” Harry said quietly, glancing away. “I hadn’t thought about that.” He lowered his other arm and wrapped both of them around Draco’s waist so that he could pull the boy farther up his body. Draco grinned and kissed Harry gently. Both of their eyes slid shut as their tongues danced around each other in a slow, rhythmic way. It was a kiss full of emotion, not meant to lead to anything else, and when they finally broke apart, Harry eyed Draco speculatively.

“Draco,” he said slowly, gaze sliding off to the side as a slight blush suffused his cheeks. “Do…do you think that…maybe…” Draco’s brow furrowed while Harry steeled himself and turned back to Draco, giving him an intense, burning look that made Draco shiver as sudden warmth filled his chest. “Do you think that one day you might actually…love me?”

The question took Draco by surprise, so much that his mind went blank and was instead filled with a soft buzzing. His eyes widened, his face felt so hot he was sure it was bright red, but he couldn’t think enough to form an answer. Nothing came to mind, he could barely comprehend what Harry had just asked him, but words were coming to his mouth and it was nothing he had thought about saying. They instead seemed to be coming from somewhere deeper inside him, but he could feel that they were true, and before anything else could happen, his mouth opened and his answer tumbled out.

“Harry, I think I already do.”

And then the words were out in the open, hanging between them, and Draco felt inexplicably mortified. Harry was staring at him in disbelief, or incomprehension, except he was starting to smile. And now he was beaming, and he might have been trying to say something but Draco’s ears were filled with nothing but a deafening roar and he couldn’t get beyond anything but the fact that he had just told Harry that he _loved_ him and-

“Draco!”

Draco’s head snapped up from where he’d apparently buried it against Harry’s neck without even realizing that he had, and he looked fearfully at Harry.

“Draco, it’s ok. Look, I-” Laughter bubbling forth from his throat interrupted him, and Draco would have thought Harry was laughing at him except he hadn’t seen the boy look this happy in…well…actually, Draco didn’t think he’d ever seen Harry look this happy. “Draco, I love you too!”

And just like that, Draco’s embarrassment disappeared and the roaring in his ears faded and the world seemed to right itself again, so that all that mattered was him and Harry and this moment and-

“You do?” Draco asked faintly, hands curling into the material of Harry’s shirt and gripping tight. Harry nodded quickly, still laughing. Draco laughed once too, except it almost sounded more like a sob, and then he and Harry were kissing again, kissing like they were about to be torn apart and this was the last minute they would have together and they were desperate for each other and trying to fully use each second that slipped by to their best advantage.

“I love you,” Draco said when they separated, the words feeling foreign on his tongue but sounding absolutely right. Harry smiled, and then kissed him again.

Sometime later they had gone back to just lying there, their arms wrapped around each other and their legs intertwined. Draco had one ear pressed against Harry’s chest, listening to the soft _ba-dump_ of Harry’s heartbeat, and one of Harry’s hands was absently playing with strands of Draco’s hair.

“I don’t ever want to leave this room,” Harry murmured, the hand he had on Draco’s waist tightening.

“Maybe if we require time to stand still, it will,” Draco said in response, shoving his own hand beneath the soft cotton of Harry’s t-shirt and letting in rest on the boy’s warm skin.

“I don’t think the room works like that,” Harry said dryly.

“Well if you doubt it like that, then of course it won’t.”

“Right, right, my bad,” Harry grinned, and then he yawned. “God, what time is it?”

“I don’t think we want to know,” Draco replied, yawning himself.

“The night can’t end yet. It’s too soon.”

“Harry, it’ll only be a little while that I’m at the manor,” Draco said reassuringly. “I’ll definitely see you in July. Can’t miss your birthday, after all. And it’s not like the world will end if we’re not together for a month.”

Harry couldn’t care less about his birthday, but suddenly his mind was swamped with thoughts of Voldemort and all the attacks this year, and the Death Eaters escaping…

His arm tightened even further around Draco’s waist. “You never know,” he muttered into the boy’s hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

Draco rolled his eyes and grinned briefly at Harry, before rolling off of him and landing softly on the floor beside the couch. Grabbing the nearby Firewhiskey bottle that they had been using earlier, he quirked an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

“Forget about that for now,” he said, a smirk curving onto his lips. “Play me?”

Harry blinked. “Play what?”

“Spin the bottle, you prat,” Draco said affectionately, with a roll of his eyes.

“But there’s only the two of us…”

“Well, duh. Don’t tell me there are other people you’d rather be kissing.” Draco cocked an eyebrow. Harry stared at him for a second, and suddenly he realized something.

There were a lot of things he wasn’t sure about. Like what was going to happen that summer, for one. When would he see Draco again? Hopefully whatever he had to take care of at the manor wouldn’t take long. And what about the war? Would it escalate further? Were the Death Eaters really planning something, and was that why things had been so quiet recently? Would he finally have to face Voldemort again?

…Was Draco now on Voldemort’s ‘To Kill’ list? Was being with Harry putting him in danger?

Harry often thought about such things. He worried a lot, he couldn’t help it. And being away from Draco wasn’t going to help at all.

But right at that moment, as he looked at Draco, looked at that smirk, eyed his tousled hair, met the gaze that had softened almost imperceptibly as he stared at Harry, Harry found that there was one thing he was completely certain about.

There was absolutely no one else he would rather be kissing.

And so, grinning widely, Harry spun.

 

_**~ ~ fin ~ ~** _


End file.
